


To Catch a Sword by the Blade

by ghostl0rd



Category: Fabula Nova Crystallis: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Feminist Themes, Fix-It, Not Canon Compliant, Slice of Life, Spoilers, War, lightis, nokurai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostl0rd/pseuds/ghostl0rd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their story begins in the most unlikely of places.</p><p>Lightis.  Alternate Reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Catch a Sword by the Blade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sellisternium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sellisternium/gifts).



> Sel wanted an origin story of Lightning in the Kingsglaive.
> 
> This Alternate Reality assumes that Lucis actively participated in the war instead of the cold war situation posited by canon, so Regis isn't aged up because he never gives up his life force to fuel the barrier. For reference, I'm talking about [40-something Regis](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/4/45/King_Caelum_closeup.png/revision/latest?cb=20110127224110). 
> 
> Age-wise Lightning and Noctis are in their mid twenties at the start, and thirty (30) by the conclusion.
> 
> I didn't put a lot of research into war/politics so I'll need you to suspend your disbelief

_In a surprising turn of events, a unilateral truce has been declared by the Niflheim Army.  The cessation of hostilities began just a few hours ago, following a public address by Aldercapt, who has expressed interest in brokering a ceasefire with—_

The television was switched off. 

“That’s enough of that,” Regis said tiredly.  He set the remote onto the coffee table in front of him before sinking back into the couch with a yawn. Next to him Noctis was reading his tablet. 

“Congrats dad,” Noctis said.  Regis grunted in response and Noctis laughed.  “What’s up?”

“There is the matter of Tenebrae.”

“I don’t mind marrying Luna, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Noctis said earnestly.  Regis ruffled his hair and smiled, eyes gentle.

“You two have always been close, huh?”

“Yeah.  She’s always looked out for me.”

“You don’t feel like you’re missing out?”

“If it helps bring an end to the war.” Noctis shrugged, content that the rest went without saying. 

Regis ran a hand through his hair.  “Can’t help but feel like I’m cheating you, son.”

“You aren’t,” Noctis promised. He set down his tablet and squeezed his father’s hand. “It’s just marriage, dad.  Take the deal.”

 

~

 

It had been a good daydream.  The chocobo's cheerful squawk was music in Noctis’ ears while he raced through the palace.  Prompto bet he’d get to the rooftop before him. Noctis was in the lead and enjoying it, leaving him far behind. Gladiolus and Ignis were pixelated versions of themselves, sunbathing by the pool below. The chocobo's wings spread wider, squawking determinedly.  Noctis was in the air now, soaring higher and higher--  

Noctis and the tailor jolted when Nyx materialized without warning in the boutique, swiftly going on one knee.  He bowed his head. 

“Lord Noctis, we have an urgent situation back at the palace.  I need you to come with me immediately.”

Noctis stared apprehensively at the vest and dress shirt the tailor had instructed him to put on.  Luna had chosen a yellow color scheme for the wedding but he wasn't sure mustard was really his color.  Prior to Nyx's arrival he'd spent the better part of an hour trying to hint to the tailor that a boring--erm, ' _traditional_ '--white shirt would be fine.  

“ _How_  urgent?”

Nyx’s explanation was to grab Noctis by the arm, warp the two of them into the waiting car outside and zoom toward the palace at top speed.

 

~

 

The elevator that took Noctis beneath the basement levels of Lucis palace opened to a narrow corridor that once served as a bunker, centuries ago.  These days it was a dungeon where Lucis isolated their most dangerous -- if not influential -- political prisoners, Nyx explained.  It was Noctis' first time down here.

“Sorry to drag you out like this,” Nyx said while Noctis trailed behind, pulling out push pins.  “Your old man’s elbow-deep in negotiations with Niflheim and she's refusing to speak to anyone who isn’t royal blood."

“It really can’t wait till he’s done?”

“Unfortunately, no.  Lightning’s one of our more . . . important guests,” Nyx said, a hard line forming on his mouth.  “Niflheim spy."  

"You guys really think she'll talk to me?"

“Probably not,” Nyx chuckled, “but it’s worth a shot.” They came to a stop in front of a metal slab of a door marked XIII.  Nyx rolled his head around his shoulders before touching his earpiece.  “Open Cell Thirteen.”

Cell thirteen.  

"Not foreboding at all," Noctis muttered.

 

~

 

The spy, codenamed 'Lightning', was lying in her bunk, staring up at the ceiling, arms crossed behind her head when Noctis stepped inside. The orange prison jumpsuit she wore was at least two sizes too big, hanging baggily off a thin frame.  She turned her head to look at him, ice-blue eyes scanning him up and down critically.  

“You’re not the King,” she said.

Noctis, when he saw her face did a double-take.  When Nyx said 'spy' Noctis had been expecting someone middle-aged, like all the spy flicks he watched.  Lightning looked to be a lot closer to his age.Or maybe Aldercapt had a spy academy or something, liked to recruit them young.

“I’m here to listen to what you have to say.”

“Fire your tailor.” She turned her back on him and faced the wall. “There.  That’s all I have to say.”

Normally Noctis would have turned heel and left, but her attitude, Nyx’s doubt and the tailor's constant talking over him had given him a goal to work towards.  He wasn't gunning for a seat in the War Room, but he'd be damned if he came all this way and left empty-handed.  

He walked over to the square table bolted to the centre of the room and sat in one of the similarly bolted down stools behind it. He shelved whatever annoyance he was currently feeling and tried again.

“How’d you know I was at the tailors?”

“You still have some push pins on your vest.” Noctis glanced down.  So he did.

He started pulling them out.  “So is sewing your thing?”

“ _Possibly using them to escape_  is my thing.”

Noctis cast a cursory amused glance at the steel door with  _no_  keyhole, then back to her.

“Really.”

She turned onto her side to look at him, expressionless. “ _Really_.”

“How?” He watched her sit up, then stand, joining him at the table. She held out her hand, and Noctis, curious, dropped one of the pins in her hand.  She held the sharp point carefully against her neck.

“I’d take you hostage,” she said. She dropped the pin back on Noctis’ side of the table.  Noctis caught it before it could roll off the edge.

“I’d warp out of your reach,” he said. He tucked that pin and the others into his pocket.  She scoffed.

"You'd never see me coming.  I'd warp with you."

“In which case I’d drop you off the roof of the palace—”

“—in which case  _I’d_  slit your throat beforehand and we’d  _both_  die,” Lightning said. Noctis paused to consider it.

"Guess that leaves us at a stalemate," he said.  Lightning nodded.

“I want to cut a deal,” she said.

 

~

 

Prompto was on the edge of his seat, hanging onto Noctis' every word as he recounted the experience later on that night via conference call.  

"And then what happened?"

"And then I passed on the message to my dad.  The end."  

"The Lucis Army thanks you for your contribution to the war effort," Gladiolus chuckled.  Noctis flipped him the bird.   

"Damn," said Prompto. "You're so lucky you got to meet a real-life spy.  Man that's so exciting!"  

"Prompto she's the  _enemy_ ," Ignis pointed out.

"So what?  The wars coming to an end, anyway.  Was she pretty Noct?  I bet she was."

Noctis had been poised to answer when Ignis cut in:

"There are so many things, I don't know where to even begin," he said. 

"You need one of these guys," Gladiolus said, holding a beer up to his webcam.  Noctis tried to laugh, but found himself yawning instead, eyes drifting to the clock in the bottom right corner of his computer screen.

"You are no help at all," Ignis told Gladiolus.  

Gladiolus grinned.  "I'm off duty."

"So Noct, what's the verdict, scale from 1 to 10?" Prompto said, turning back, but Noctis was already fast asleep; flying in outer space on the backs of adamantoise--adamantoii?--at the speed of light.

 

~

 

"It's  adamantoii: A-D-A-M-A-N-T-O-I-I.   _Adamantoii._ " Lightning hissed, a week later when Noctis saw her again.  "Where is the King?  I said I wanted to cut a deal."

"You sure it's not adaman _toises._ " 

Lightning crossed her arms and glowered.  Noctis quickly typed out 'adamantoii' and sent the memo to Prompto.  He tucked his phone away.  

"Sorry," Noctis said.  "He's going to be busy this whole week.  He won't have time for you, so just pass on whatever you know and I'll get it to him."

A vein on Lightning's clenched jaw looked close to bursting.  She spoke slowly, her voice tightly controlled.  "Your Highness this is  _urgent;_ a matter of life and death. I can't blurt it out because--" something caught her eye in the corner of the room above Noctis' head and immediately her jaw clamped shut. Expression suddenly stoic, she pushed herself out of her seat and pointed to the door. "We're done here.  Have fun with your 'Peace' Treaty."  

As he left Noctis surreptitiously glanced up where she'd been looking and found himself puzzled. 

 

~

 

"She only wants to talk to  _you_ dad," Noctis said a few nights later in his father's office. Regis continued to peruse the file open out in front of him.  "She won't say anything while there's cameras around.  Will you please just  _talk_  to her?"

"Noct,  _open your eyes_ : the war is coming to an end. She's not the first to try to cut a deal and she certainly won't be the last.  I can't just drop everything and go to her."

"So that's it, you won't see her." 

Regis finally looked at him, exasperated.  "Don't you have a wedding to worry about?" 

Noctis glared at him.  

"Well don't you?"

“Yes.” Noctis bit out, scowling. "But this feels important dad." 

“This 'feels' important," Regis repeated cynically. "Son are you absolutely  _sure_  you don’t have any regrets about Tenebrae?”

“ _Dad_.”

"The best I can give her is right  _after_ the treaty's been signed. She will be first on the list, I promise you."

“Thank you,” Noctis said, finally relaxing in his seat. Regis thumbed through the file, making notes in the margins.  He suddenly smiled.  Noctis doubted it had anything to do with Lucis foreign policy. 

“So.” The smile stretched wider. “Mustard."

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

~

 

In the elevator Nyx was smiling in the way that only someone with a secret would.  Noctis let out a sigh.

“What,” Nyx said innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to.  I know that look.”

“What look?”

Noctis ignored him the rest of the way down.

Lightning’s jumpsuit was folded neatly on her bunk while she performed a headstand on the cold concrete floor, and Noctis almost tripped over himself seeing her state of undress.  Beneath the jumpsuit was a lithely muscular body, clad in a white tanktop and boyleg underwear, which Noctis had  _not_  been prepared for.

It was only when Nyx whistled appreciatively behind that Noctis was instantly galvanized into action, slamming the cell door shut to preserve her modesty. Not an easy thing to do, considering the door weighed a ton, but Noctis managed. 

Somehow.  

He turned to Lightning and pretended that he couldn’t hear Nyx chuckling on the other side.  

“Uh, so.”

“I thought we were done talking,” Lightning said, face red from the effort of keeping her balance. She shifted and gravity had her tanktop riding up a little higher, exposing the bottom half of her sports bra.  Noctis wrenched his gaze to the floor, flushing.

“I talked to my father.”

Beads of sweat pattered softly onto the floor in the silence.  

“He said you’d be the first person he talked to once the treaty was signed,” Noctis said.

Lightning slowly lowered one leg, and then the other, eventually sitting up. She shifted closer to the wall, leaning against it.

“Not good enough,” she said.

“That’s the best he can offer.” 

“ _Not good enough_.”  He could feel her glaring at him now.

“ _Why_  is it not good enough?” Noctis demanded, gaze still glued to his feet.  Also: why was he being so helpful to her? She was a Niflheim  _spy_.  He had absolutely no business being here.  "Lightning I'm trying. You have to give me something."

In his peripheral vision he saw Lightning stand.  She moved until she was right in front of him, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

 

~

 

Regis was staring as if Noctis had just told him adamantoii—not  _toises_ —could fly. And morbidly, Noctis was wishing that was the first thing he led the conversation with when he caught him at breakfast the following morning.  

"You're  _what_?"

"I can't marry Luna," Noctis said.  "Not yet. There's still some things to figure out." Like how to catch the traitors in dad's inner circle, for instance.  Lightning had refused to disclose the names--it was her only insurance, she said, and if Noctis messed up, then she was as good as dead too. She had a plan; the less people involved, the better. 

"Noctis, the  _entire_  Peace Treaty  _hinges_  on you marrying Luna--"

"I know. I need more time."

 "A few weeks ago you told me you were fine with marrying her."

"I  _am_ fine with marrying her. She's my best friend."

"So what's changed?"

"Nothing. I just need to uh. . ." oh fuck him, he couldn't believe he was saying this "find myself."

" _Find_  yourself?" Regis' eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of their sockets.   

"I just need some more time."

" _Time_?  The Treaty signing is in a month!" Regis sputtered.

 _I'll take it,_  Noctis decided.  "A month. Thanks dad!"

 

~

 

"You," Lightning pointed a half-eaten drumstick at Noctis, "are a shitty liar.  You should have just told him the truth." She went back to eating, polishing off the drumstick in a few more bites before starting on the salad. 

"What truth?" 

"That you don't want to get married," Lightning said.  Gods, did he hate spinach, but the way she ate it had him reconsidering his stance on vegetables.  

"Why do people keep saying that?" 

"So you actually  _do_  like mustard yellow." 

"You know I can just leave you to rot, right?"

"Sure." She pushed aside her now empty tray, expression stoic once more, lowering her voice.  "They've got eyes on us. If you don't want to arouse suspicion you need to be more careful.  You can't drop in too often.  Someone’s going to notice."

"Got that covered," Noctis said, at just the same volume and tone. "People think I'm 'infatuated'." He reached across the table and touched her hand—totally for the camera’s benefit, of course, but the skin beneath his was so unexpectedly soft, he swallowed involuntarily.  "Truth is stranger than fiction, the saying goes, but it's working in our favor."

"Right." Lightning pulled her hand back.  "You still need to be careful." 

Noctis pretended not to notice the annoyed twitch her eye made; or that she had subtly leaned slightly back in response. "Tell me what needs to be done.  I’m not as useless as you think I am.”

Lightning's lips pressed into a line, still at war with herself.  Noctis exhaled.  The mental hoops he had to jump through for this person,  _honestly_.  

"Lightning—"

"Your friends," she said. "Do you trust them?"

"With my life.  Now tell me." He touched her hand again.

(To stay in character, of course.)

Lightning smiled for the camera's benefit as she withdrew: a shy, vulnerable smile that was  _not at all_ like her.  The cold tone of voice, on the other hand:

"Once was convincing enough," she said, still smiling.  The juxtaposition was frightening.  "Touch me again unnecessarily and I break your fucking wrist."

 

~

 

“. . . need to get her a puppy or something,” Noctis muttered in the elevator twenty minutes later. 

Nyx grinned, but said nothing.

 

~

 

Lightning—when she wasn’t busy threatening grievous bodily harm, sniping at his ‘farcical’ wedding nuptials, or pointing out weaknesses in Lucis military strategy—was brilliant.

(Pun unintended.)

Because people assumed he was smitten, they also assumed he fornicated with her in the blind spot of the security camera—for ‘privacy’—during his visits.  In reality, that special corner was Lightning's ‘sand box’ (military term, Noctis was sure) where she, the epitome of concentration, detailed exactly what was in store for Lucis should he fail to thwart Niflheim’s plot. Had the camera been tilted just the tiniest bit forward, people would have seen their ‘tryst’ for the sham it was. The first few days passed without consequence and Noctis was surprised.  

“Serendipity,” he declared. 

“Security measures in desperate need of an overhaul,” Lightning corrected.  

They agreed to disagree.

Not that it was a talent he was particularly proud of, but Noctis had become adept at playing ‘willfully ignorant’ to the smirks and subtle nods in his direction from various members of the Kingsglaive. Lightning’s explanation for why no one had seen fit to crack down on their after-hours liaising had been blunt and merciless. She claimed it was because a) the Kingsglaive were closeted perverts and b) no one wanted to be the one reporting the future king to the incumbent for fear of job security.  Noctis wasn’t sure which to take more offense at.

“Like you said: truth  _is_  stranger than fiction.  They’d rather believe  _you_ of all people had become a willful fraternizer than a man working in the interests of peace.”

“Have you  _always_  been this cynical or is that the war talking?”

Lightning’s eyes frosted over.  

“That was a joke—”

 “Oh- _ho._ ” She gave a sarcastic laugh.  “You want  _cynical_.  Alright, I’ll give you  _cynical_.” She poked him hard in the chest.  “We’re always the ones who suffer when you guys up top make shit decisions like go to war with our neighbors for years and  _years_  for no other reason than greed and conquest.  If you’d bothered to step out of your ivory towers you’d realize that  _no one_  is as nationalistic as the propaganda you feed us.  _No one_  cares for this pissing contest you’ve dragged the rest of us in because  _we know_  better than  _anyone_  else that it’s  _our_  lives being put on the line— _our_  families being displaced. 

And  _that’s_  why,” she prodded him in the chest one final time, "most of us aren’t in any hurry to defend you if your name gets dragged into the dirt.  Because on the off chance that we  _did_  want to; there wouldn’t be any point—it’s already there.”

Yeah. Definitely the war talking.

The first time she’d ‘cornered’ him, the first time they’d strategized ('fraternized’ in Kingsglaive speak), Noctis literally thought she was trying to kill him.  He’d reacted, naturally—shoved her back to the wall opposite; falchion pressed against her neck— and it had taken some world-class acting and some major balls on her part to knock the sword away and drag his mouth right down to hers.

Yeah, no. It was  _not_  romantic—not by any stretch of the imagination.

It was a kiss as much it was a way for Lightning to shut him up.  And Gods, it had been brief and it had been  _painful_ : teeth bumping against his, death-grip on his tie as she wrenched his face away, the cold hiss of her voice when she put her lips to his ear and told him to  _calm the fuck down_ before he gave them away. 

And no, practice did  _not_  make perfect, because one week on Noctis realized all the muscle memory in the world would never be enough to get used to standing so close to her: one hand braced on the wall beside her head, other placed carefully on her hip, head bent toward hers.

“Getting cold feet?” Nyx asked, breaking the silence in the elevator at last.  

Noctis stared, caught unawares by the question.

“It’s actually pretty normal," Nyx continued, eyes focused on the LED monitor counting down (up?) to their destination.  "Throwing all your energy into something else to take your mind off things.  Good coping mechanism, but we all have to face the music sooner or later."

Noctis glanced back to his phone, rereading the address Lightning had given him.

“I’m  _not_  getting cold feet,” he said. 

 

~

 

Positive that Lightning might be herding them into a trap, Gladiolus headed their expedition into the tiny antique store, sidestepping, ducking and weaving through a clutter of grandfather clocks, oil paintings, birdcages and lampshades.  Close behind were Ignis and Noctis while Prompto brought up the rear, occasionally separating from the group to examine items more closely. 

When they reached the back of the store a young woman was at the top of a ladder, earphones at full blast while shelving some rare first editions.  Gladiolus picked up a nearby candlestick and tapped her elbow.   She shrieked, falling backward.  Ignis caught the books in one hand without missing a beat, steadying the ladder with the other while Gladiolus came to her rescue.  She smiled brightly as she was set back on the ground, popping her earphones out. At the same time an adolescent boy’s voice could be heard drifting out of the doorway leading into a backroom.

“Vanille did you fall  _again_?”  He sounded resigned, as if the matter was a daily occurrence. 

“Yes—I mean no!” ‘Vanille’ answered over her shoulder. “Everything’s fine!  Got lucky,” she smiled up at Gladiolus. 

“Anytime,” Gladiolus winked.  Prompto rolled his eyes. 

Ignis set the books down onto a nearby bureau.  “Sorry for scaring you,” he said.  “I’m not sure if we’re lost.  We’re looking for someone.”

“Name?”

“Fang,” Ignis supplied. 

Vanille sighed and shook her head, genuinely apologetic.  She picked up the books.  “Sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name—”

Prompto nudged Noctis.

“Wait,” Noctis said. He pushed himself to the front. “Lightning sent us.”

The books thudded noisily on the floor, Vanille staring.

A lanky teenager stepped out of the backroom, clutching a large wooden club.  He moved until he was protectively in front of Vanille, eyes widening when he saw Ignis and Gladiolus.  The club lowered.

“You guys are. . .” His eyes landed on Noctis.  “Uh. . . ”

Gladiolus and Ignis exchanged glances.

Prompto found a helmet fashioned in the likeness of a dragon’s head and put it on.  “Guys, check it out!” 

“For Godsake take that off before you break it!” Ignis went over and attempted to wrestle it off him.

"No! It's mine, I found it first!  Ow! Get off you're gonna break it!"

“Lightning sent us,” Noctis said over the racket, while Gladiolus went to help Ignis.  He sifted through his brain for the password.  “‘ _The future is bright; we are the Goddess’s champions._ ’”

Vanille and the boy looked at each other, then rock-paper-scissorsed.  The boy lost.  Vanille pointed to the doorway. “Off you go."

Noctis who had been staring after the boy, jumped, hearing Vanille lock the front door. She switched the trading sign to read  _Closed_.  

“Fang will be out in a minute,” she said.

There was a yelp from the backroom, followed by a heavy thud that shook the lights hanging from the ceiling.  A tall woman emerged groggily in the doorway, wiping the sleep from her eyes.  In one hand she clutched a spear.  She fit the description Lightning had given Noctis: dark hair, beauty mark beneath her right eye—

“Nice ink,” Gladiolus told her appreciatively. A slow smile spread across Fang’s lips as she sized him up. 

The boy, dusting himself off, came and stood beside her.  

"I really thought she was dead," he said.  "When she stayed back I thought—no one could’ve—" 

"—we all did, kid," Fang said tersely.  Her gaze drifted to Noctis.   "She  _is_   _alive_ , isn't she?"

Noctis recited the trigger phrase a second time. "She cut a deal for you," he added afterward.  Well, a new one, when both admitted it was going to take more than four people to pull off this op.  "A blank slate and full citizenship."

Fang’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  "And she's sure you can deliver."

"She's sure  _you_  can," Noctis said. 

Silence.

"Politicians," Fang muttered, but she stuck out a hand anyway.  "Welcome to NORA."

"The  _terrorist_  cell?" Ignis said while they shook hands. Fang turned, not appreciating it one bit. 

" _Freedom fighters_ ," she corrected, eyes narrowed.  "You shouldn't believe everything you see in the news."

"Indeed, seeing as you're all still active."

The air was tense as the two regarded each other.  Vanille tugged Fang's arm. 

"Not now Vani," Fang growled, grip on her spear tightening.  Vanille continued to tug anyway.

" _Sazh_ ," Vanille said.  Fang stopped glaring, then turned, expression thoughtful.

"Yeah, he’ll want in, won’t he?” she said.  “For Dajh.”

Vanille nodded.  “We’ll also need to call Snow, and—" 

"—bags not telling Serah!" Fang and Vanille said in unison. 

Hope groaned.

Vanille patted him on the head.

"Am I the only one who's lost?" Prompto said.  He'd found the matching armor to go with the dragon helmet and was putting on the last gauntlet to complete the ensemble.   

The entire room stared at him.

"Um," Vanille started.

“You break that, you buy it,” Hope said, peeved.

"He's not with us," Gladiolus said. "We found him on the streets."

Noctis pulled out his phone, remembering the cryptic note Lightning had typed—for Fang's eyes only apparently, as Noctis and Ignis had not been able to decipher it. Fang rolled her eyes after she saw it and passed it to Hope, who grinned. 

“Field trip!” He said to Fang. 

 

~

 

Lightning’s arms were around Noctis’ neck, draping over his shoulders. Every once in a while she’d slide her fingers in his hair, like an afterthought, and the sensation often distracted him from listening to what she said.

“Hey,” Lightning said.  It just occurred to Noctis that she never addressed him by name or 'Your Highness', only a simple 'hey' to get his attention. 

“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” Noctis said.  “They want to meet tonight at ‘Yusnaan’.  Not sure where that is, but Ignis didn’t want me going.”

Lightning snorted.

“What?”

“Yusnaan isn't a where; it's a  _what_ ,” said Lightning.  “A burlesque club.”

“Oh. . .” Lightning raised an eyebrow at his reaction. “What?”

“You’re more sheltered than I thought.”

“I’m not ‘sheltered’, I just  _haven’t heard_  of it.”

“That’s the definition of ‘sheltered’,” Lightning pointed out. Noctis scowled. 

“Can we move along?”

She nodded, and went back to fiddling with his hair. Her eyes focused on the space behind him.  “Did you hear any names?”

He couldn't decide which was harder: trying to concentrate or trying to remember, what with what with her nails brushing consistently against the nape of his neck.  Lightning, appearing to realize, quickly retracted her fingers, ducking her head to hide a blush.

“Sorry, is that distracting."

“Little bit,” Noctis admitted, blushing as well, because truthfully he  _didn’t_  mind—it was a nice massage—and he  _felt_   _guilty_  for not minding because he was  _getting_   _married_.  This had to be considered ‘cheating’.  Luna didn’t deserve that.

“It’s just. . . your hair is really soft,” Lightning said absently.  “Like baby chocobo feathers. . .”

“Um, thanks?” Noctis swore his ears were on fire now.

“You were saying?”

“Sazh, Snow and Serah,” Noctis said. 

Lightning froze, hearing the last name.

“Um,” Noctis started.

She ducked under his arm and went to sit on her bunk.  Noctis followed, leaning his hip against the table.

“Good or bad?” he asked. He didn’t think he’d ever  _live_  to see her so anxious: wringing her hands together, staring into space. There was a sudden urge to put an arm around her shoulder but he refrained.  He didn’t know her that well—he didn’t know her  _at all._ She might not appreciate it, and  _he was getting married for Godsake_.

“Serah’s my sister,” Lightning said, softly. 

“Your sist— _wow_." Holy shit. "That’s. . .” Noctis trailed off, speechless. The conversation had taken a turn he’d never expected. 

_She has family._

_Of_ course _she has family._

Lightning’s voice was strangled, filled with barely contained emotion.  “So she’s alive.   _Thank Etro_ ,” she said.

When she looked up again, she was smiling. A genuine smile with zero snark; eyes slightly misty. Quickly as it happened the moment ended: she hastily wiped her eyes with the back of her jumpsuit sleeve, and glared up at him, cheeks reddening.

“I swear if you laugh I’ll kick your ass.”

Would if Noctis could. 

 _Would_ , if not for the strange tightening in his chest that had him trying to remember how to breathe. 

 

~

 

Regis had a ringbinder spread open in his lap in front of the television when Noctis came downstairs. Seeing Noctis tugging at his masquerade mask, Regis tilted his reading glasses up into his hairline, squinting hard.

“Bachelor party,” Noctis said.  Regis smiled approvingly and went back to his report.  

“One last night out on the town with the boys, huh?  Have fun.”

Truth  _was_  stranger than fiction.

 

~

 

Fang was at the club entrance when the quartet arrived, flirting with a woman presently checking names off a list.  She gave a mock salute as they approached, whispered something that made the other woman blush, then sauntered up to them.  

“So, before we get started."  Fang put her hands on her hips, expression deadpan. “How good are you guys at hiding dead bodies?"

The quartet stared at her.  

Fang rolled her eyes. " _Relax_ , I'm just messin' with ya." She turned and motioned for them to follow. "I think the most we can hope for is grand larceny, anyway.  This way to victory, lads." 

"She's lost her marbles," Ignis declared.

“Yeah but she's so hot,” Prompto sighed.

“And out of your league,” Gladiolus murmured.

Noctis followed silently, still tugging at his mask. He hoped he didn’t have to wear it for the entire duration of the meeting.

 

~

 

He didn't.

They serpentined through Yusnaan in a single file; Fang at the lead, weaving through the sea of tables, finally escaping the heat of the club into a VIP bathroom (Prompto declared it ' VIP' because a password had been needed by the bouncer guarding the door.).  A handsome middle-aged man with a goatee had been sitting on the on the bathroom sink, playing on his phone when they arrived. Seeing Fang he hopped down, hugging her tightly.

"Getting a bit pudgy Sazh," Fang teased, poking him in the stomach. "I see the missus has been feeding you."

"And then some," Sazh winked. He glanced over her shoulder and let out a low whistle--apparently recognizing Noctis with the mask.  "Amazing."

"Didn't believe me, did ya?" Fang said, nudging him. Sazh laughed. 

"I knew she'd make friends in high places; I just didn't expect  _royalty,"_  he said.  

"I'll bet  _friendship_  isn't the only thing she's made," Fang snickered and Prompto coughed into his elbow.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Noctis said.

Sazh chuckled and squeezed Noctis' shoulder.  "Relax, Fang's just busting your balls, kid."

"Plus Light hates politicians," Fang added.  "Can't stand 'em."

"I thought it was lawyers."

"Mm, no, lawyers are number two."

"And  _then_  tailors," Sazh finished with a nod.  "Anyway,"

He went over to the sink and pressed a button hidden on its underside. A loud clunking of gears sounded, and the entire bathroom counter swung outward, revealing a narrow staircase lit by crystals recessed into the walls.  

"Nice," said Gladiolus.

"You guys are so cool!" Prompto gushed.

Sazh chuckled as he brought up the rear of their group, closing the entrance behind him. 

"I like your optimism, kid."

At the bottom of the staircase was a large steel door.  Fang banged on it in a strange rhythm, and after a few seconds the person on the other side banged back.  

"They even have a secret knock!" Prompto whispered to Gladiolus.

"I'm sure they have openings," Gladiolus teased.  The eyehole slid open, and Fang stepped closer.

“Password?” 

“Let us in or I’ll kill you,” Fang said.  The door hissed open, the man on the other end laughing.  Fang punched him in the shoulder as she passed, before he shook hands with Sazh. 

“Rygdea! Still kicking I see,” Sazh said.

“Sazh, always a pleasure. Raines is here too.”

“No way.”

“And Rosch," Rygdea said.  "He survived Eden."

“This is definitely turning into quite the party,” Sazh remarked.

Noctis continued to listen to them as they proceeded through the hallway, keenly interested.  Lightning never talked about herself—always all business, always redirecting the attention from herself—so these people they were meeting were a window into the type of life she probably had, and insight into the type of person she was.  It wasn't fair that she'd learnt so much about him in such a small space of time while he had barely crossed the starting line.  This would be a way to even the playing field.

At the end of the hall was a surprisingly large conference room, with an oval table where a number of people sat or stood around, talking. Along the edge on one end of the room was a smaller table with two large coffee dispensers, a stack of paper cups, some sugar packets and a large carton of milk.  

Aside from Vanille and Hope, there were—after counting—six other people Noctis didn't recognize.  The chatter evaporated into tense silence as Noctis and company entered, which was promptly diffused by Fang, who let out a sharp bark of laughter while she dragged them all in front of her.

"How about some introductions?" she said. She introduced the quartet, then turned to the group staring at them.  Each gave a wave or nod as their names were called out. 

"On the left there, you've got our wheelmen Gadot and Yuj. Next to Gadot with the permanent scowls--no, they're definitely permanent, I checked—are Rosch and Raines: both Niflheim defectors, so if you have any prejudices, nobody gives a shit.  Rygdea, the guy leaving through the hallway right now, is also a defector.  You've already met Hope our techie and Vanille, our resident Saboteur."

“Saboteur?” said Ignis.

“She blows shit up,” said Gadot, expression deadpan.

"Yup yup!" Vanille chirped, waving energetically.

Ignis stared, horrified. 

"And last but not least: Maqui and Lebreau, our eyes and ears of all the goings on in Lucis.  Also, special props to Lebreau for the coffee—thanks love—don’t forget to leave a tip on your way out, 'kay?"

Noctis cycled through the names he'd heard, puzzled. There was one more name he hadn't heard yet, and had come expecting to hear.  

_But where is she?_

Fang also appeared to notice as well, calling out to Vanille. "Snow and Serah?"

"They'll be down soon, club business to take care of."

"Alrighty," Fang said. "Well, you boys make yourselves at home, there's some tea or coffee over there, and as soon as those lovebirds get back we'll start sussing out Operation: Reclaim the Throne."

"But my father hasn't—my father  _isn't_  losing the. . ." Noctis tried to say, but Fang was already halfway across the room to Hope who had something to show her on his laptop.  

Ignis tapped him on the shoulder. “Better make use of that coffee.”

 

~

 

An hour later Noctis had exchanged small talk with the other NORA members and felt like he had a better understanding of Lightning.  He felt like he was at a wake, hearing all these anecdotes and experiences these people had had with her, with the humorous exception that she was still alive. 

“Your father would be proud,” Ignis said, once Noctis had completed the rounds and the room was noticeably more relaxed around them. “Seeing you networking, making friends. . .”

Noctis was watching Vanille demonstrate a simple destruction spell to Gladiolus and Prompto, knocking over a stack of paper cups, and earning the ire of Rosch, who'd spilled some of his coffee into his lap.

“I guess,” Noctis said, turning back to Ignis. “But they’re a pretty interesting bunch.”

“Or, they’ve led pretty interesting lives,” Ignis said.  “It’s very easy to be enamoured by it if one rarely ventures out.”

“So you’re saying I’m enamoured?”

“Or at the very least intrigued.  You  _are_  getting married after all; the opportunity for adventure would definitely be reduced once duty beckons.  Luna manages well, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate the extra help.  In a way, maybe, with the wedding date drawing nearer, you’ve subconsciously begun to realize this. Or maybe you’ve felt like this all along.  Maybe you've always been curious about life outside Lucis and meeting Lightning was the final grain of sand to tip the scale.”

“It’s also in the interests of Lucis,” Noctis said.  “If I tell my dad outright who the traitors are, there’s a chance they’ll escape, and if they do we won’t be able to prove the treaty’s a ruse.”

“ _Or_  you could tell him and he’ll  _believe_  you, and he’ll  _help_  you catch them,” Ignis said.  “An option that presents less of a risk to him  _and_  Luna.  Admit it: you’re hungry for a little adventure.”

“Heh.” Noctis punched him lightly in the shoulder.  “Only if  _you_  admit you don’t trust these guys.”

“Hmph,” Ignis murmured into his cup.   

“You know, I think I saw Fang giving you the eye a bit earlier on,” Noctis whispered, and Ignis sputtered, then choked on his coffee, face going beet-red.   Noctis was clapping his back to help him when a blonde man, built like a brick shithouse stepped inside with a large tray covered in tinfoil, a young woman with pink hair the exact shade as Lightning’s following. 

Serah and Snow.  And behind Serah, lowering the hood she used to conceal her face was—

 _“Crowe?”_ Ignis, Prompto and Gladiolus said together, staring as the glaive took a knee in front of Noctis, greeting him with a firm handshake.  

“Thanks for the tip-off,” Crowe said. 

“How’re you holding up?” Noctis asked. 

“Playing dead is a challenge but it is better than the alternative,” Crowe replied.  She crossed her arms, looking at him reproachfully.  “Libertus is wondering why you’re still using the blind spot, myself included.  There’s no need to keep—” 

Noctis cleared his throat pointedly, ears burning. 

“I see,” said Crowe.  She stepped close, lowering her voice so that only Noctis could hear.  “A little word of advice Your Highness: there has never been a single woman, living or dead  _in existence_  that has  _ever_  appreciated being deceived.  You may derive some temporary satisfaction the way things are now, but if you’re striving for permanence I’d suggest honesty.”

“I’ll. . .keep that in mind,” Noctis muttered.  Crowe nodded and took the empty seat Fang was patting beside her.  When he turned back, Serah and Snow were watching him; twin smirks on their faces. 

“Um,” said Noctis. “How much of that did you hear?”

“How much do you want us to pretend we didn’t?” said Serah. 

Awkward.

 

~

 

“So.  You talked to Serah,” Lightning said the next day in the middle of doing sit ups, sans jumpsuit. 

“Yeah.  She says she’ll see you soon,” Noctis said from the bench, careful to keep his eyes trained on her face.  “You’ve got some pretty amazing friends.”

“More than I deserve,” Lightning panted.  “Thirty. . . twenty-nine. . .twenty-eight. . . ”

Noctis frowned.  “Why would you say that?”

“Twenty-four. . . twenty-three. . . because,” Lightning said.  “Twenty-two. . .” Seeing Noctis’ expression she stopped and lay flat on the floor, panting.  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the easiest person to get along with.”

“No, I definitely noticed,” Noctis said.  She kicked his ankle. 

“Did Hope find the weapons cache?” she asked.

 With Libertus monitoring the security feeds for them the blind spot was now redundant.  Noctis had bit the bullet and told her that Libertus had installed a scrambler that would play an endless loop of them ‘making out’ in the corner should anyone else care to look.  What he didn’t tell her was that Libertus had installed the scrambler the very day after they’d saved Crowe, which was a long enough period of time that he was sure would net him a punch in the face and so Noctis resolved to tell her when this was all over instead. 

_Besides, she hates politicians._

Noctis nodded.  “And the hard drive.”  He couldn’t believe how powerful Aldercapt’s influence was; the names he’d seen: all people he’d become accustomed to seeing in and around the palace; all people who’d watched him grow up.  All traitors.

Lightning sat up, bringing up one knee to rest her arm.  She faced away from the security camera.  “They’ll only need four—five days at the most to prepare. After that it's just recon, little tweaks here and there.  With Rosch and Raines it could be faster so we'll see."

“That fast?”

“When you grow up during wartime, you tend not to fuck around,” Lightning said, and the morose edge in her voice told Noctis there was a story behind that statement he was better off not knowing.  Thankfully, she decided to change the subject.  “How’s wedding prep?”

“Don’t you mean my ‘farcical nuptials’?”

“Yeah how’s that going?”

Luna had told him not to worry about the details.  “Still going,” Noctis said. 

“Half-ass,” Lightning muttered, going back to the floor again. 

 

~

 

The day before he was due to ‘depart’ for Tenebrae, Noctis was back at the tailors for one final fitting when he received an unexpected email from Serah, asking him to lunch.  Public place, lots of people.  A café called Lebreaus’s (Noctis thought that name was familiar) in the shopping district, and he could bring one of his bodyguards if he wanted.  Noctis read between the lines and showed up fifteen minutes early, alone.  He received a few curious stares from other customers, but none approached for a photograph, which was a relief.

Lebreau who was working the till, smiled as he approached. 

“Serah’s running late—one of her students superglued herself to her chair again,” she said, giggling.  “She said lunch is on her.” Lebreau gestured to the glass display above the counter.  “Snow’s on a baking kick.  We have, let’s see: white chocolate and cranberry, classic chocolate chip,  _double_ chocolate chip, raspberry and white chocolate, white chocolate and macadamia, oatmeal. . . ”

“I guess I’ll have one of each,” Noctis laughed, hopelessly at a loss. Rygdea poked his head out of the kitchen. 

“They’re pretty good, aren’t they?” he said. 

“Really good,” Noctis agreed.  He’d even spotted Ignis exchanging recipes with Snow over the course of other meetings. 

Lebreau began loading the cookies onto a large plate.  “Anything to drink?”

“I’ll have a latte.”

“Coming right up,” said Lebreau.  She passed the plate over to him. “Just pick a seat and there’s some magazines and books near the back wall if you want something to read.”

“Copy that.”

 

~

 

The latte was cool enough to drink when a Harley pulled over in front of Lebreau's’, Serah waving to Noctis through the window after removing her helmet.  She hurried inside, a heavy messenger bag bouncing against her hip before dropping down across from Noctis. 

“Sweet ride,” Noctis said.

“Snow won it in a card game a few years back. He calls her Shiva—don’t ask,” Serah laughed, sensing that Noctis had been about to. 

Rygdea arrived then, setting a bottle of water down in front of her.  “On the house,” he said, winking.

“Oh you!” Serah laughed, poking him. Rygdea gave a wave over his shoulder in reply, moving to deliver another beverage to another customer.  Serah turned back, beaming at the empty plate in front of Noctis, dotted with cookie crumbs.

“I hope you’re not buying those out of sympathy,” she said.  “Snow’s a golden retriever when it comes to hobbies: never gives up once he starts.”

“No, they’re actually really good,” Noctis said earnestly.  “Sorry, I should have saved some for you—”

“No it’s fine,” Serah said.  “We have enough to feed an army back home, trust me.”  She stood with her water.  “We’ll talk in Lebreau’s office.”

As he followed her through the kitchen, up a flight of stairs Noctis suddenly remembered Fang referring to them ‘lovebirds’.

“So are you and Snow uh. . .”

“Together?”             

Noctis nodded. 

Serah let out a happy sigh.  “Yeah.  Practically married, but technically long-term engaged,” she said, showing him a sapphire pendant fashioned in the shape of a teardrop around her neck.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Serah tucked it back under her shirt.  She giggled, suddenly.  “Light gave him such a hard time when we first started out.  And then when she found out he was affiliated with NORA she went  _ballistic_.”

Noctis could see that happening.  “Is it a trust thing, or is it a Snow thing?”

“Sorry, loyal sister here.” Serah smiled over her shoulder at him.  “That’s something you’re going to have to ask Light yourself.”

They reached the top of the staircase, opening the first door on their left in a narrow hallway.  The office was sparsely furnished: a computer desk along the wall on one side, shelves on the opposite edge filled with worn history textbooks.  Hanging on the walls were various group photographs of NORA excluding Lightning.  A large window gave a pleasant view of the fountain in the centre of the square, in front of which were two beanbag chairs.  From here they enjoyed the warm afternoon breeze, Serah pointing out things of interest to Noctis while he tried to guess why he was here. 

Eventually, he watched Serah dig around in her bag, passing him a lightning-shaped pendant. 

“There’s a clasp hidden near the bale,” Serah said. 

Noctis found a tiny photograph of the sisters on the inside of one half, and on the other—

“Your parents?” he asked, glancing at her. 

“Yeah.  Died during the Luxerion bombing.”

“You're from Nova Chrysalia,” Noctis realized, immediately feeling awkward. 

"Yes."

“If it’s any consolation—”

Serah held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.  “Let’s just move on,” she said. 

Noctis nodded and stared into his mug, determined to keep his head down if it killed him. 

“Light enlisted in the Niflheim Army the day after, determined to see Lucis burned to the ground— _and_  to make sure I got a decent education,” Serah added with a giggle.  “Revenge was the only thing keeping her going.  She made Lieutenant Colonel.”

"That's a long way for revenge," Noctis commented.

“Not that she wasn’t  _already_  driven to begin with—straight A student et cetera—but she had a lot of rage back then.  She has mellowed out over the years though—it happens.

Eventually she came to realize what it really cost to serve the Emperor.  She started helping NORA—smuggling weapons to help the resistance and smuggling people to escape Ardyn’s black bags.  And all the while this was happening the Emperor became more and more paranoid: routine lie-detector tests, even curfews.  I told Light she needed to get out.  She said the Emperor was planning something big; she needed to find out what.  And she did.”

“The Peace Treaty,” Noctis said. 

“During one of our meetings we realized too late that she’d been followed. He’d been watching her for weeks.  A firefight broke out, alerting a small group of  Kingsglaive who’d been scouting the area.  Lightning  _took care of_ the guy, then stayed back to buy us some time and the rest is history.”

Serah took a long drink of her water in the silence.  Noctis tapped a finger against his empty mug.

“Hey Serah,”

“Hmm?”

“What’s Lightning’s real name?”

“Sworn to secrecy on that front,” Serah replied.  “ _Although_ ,” she added, looking at him thoughtfully, “isn’t that something you’d rather find out from her?”

Noctis coughed, willing his face not to turn red.  “I don’t think she likes me enough to tell me, to be honest.  Especially now that I know she’s a Cocoon National.”

“Yeah, sorry, still can’t help you there,” Serah laughed.

“Is there anything you  _can_ tell me  _without_  breaking the sister code?”

“Well,” said Serah.  “We both hate yellow.”

Noctis blinked at her.

“They remind us of funerals. Our parents’ wake was filled with yellow sympathy lilies.” She giggled. “Sorry, that probably isn’t very insightful, is it?”

On the contrary.

 

~

 

“She asked me to give that to you.  For luck,” Noctis said.  Lightning stared at the pendant he’d dropped in her hand for a moment longer and then pressed it firmly back into his palm.

“Then you take it,” she said. “You’re going to need it more than me from this point on.  You can give it back when this is all over.”

Noctis pocketed the necklace.  Lightning offered her hand.

“Godspeed Your Highness.”

“Noct,” Noctis said.  Lightning looked at him quizzically.  “Just Noct is fine.” 

They shook hands.

“Careful,” Lightning said, a corner of her mouth curling upward. “Just because I’m helping you save your kingdom doesn’t mean I have your back from here on out.”

Nova Chrysalia. 

“Budding acquaintances then,” Noctis chanced.

“Budding acquaintances.” Lightning nodded.  “And Your Highness,” she added just when he reached the door. 

Noctis turned.  Lightning was smirking.

“I mean it when I say be careful.  You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

Ouch.

 

~

**_NIFLHEIM SURRENDERS!  LUCIS TRAITORS EXPOSED!_ **

 

**_ALDERCAPT DEAD; ARDYN EXECUTED FOR CONSPIRACY TO MURDER AND KIDNAPPING_ **

 

**_FULL SURRENDER:  
Signed at Lucis Palace_ **

 

**_VICTORY: Niflheim Reveals Surrender to Eastern Allies, Lucis_ **

 

**_NIFLHEIM ARMIES IN TENEBRAE SURRENDER; PRINCE RAVUS IMPRISONED_ **

 

**_SOLHEIM REBELLION CRUSHES NIFLHEIM FORCES; SOLHEIM SOVEREIGNTY RESTORED_ **

 

**_TENEBRAE KICKS OFF V-E CELEBRATIONS WITH CORONATION;  
CAELUM-NOX-FLEURET NUPTIALS STILL CONFIRMED TO GO AHEAD_ **

 

**_ARMISTICE SIGNED_ **

 

**_COMPLETE TERMS OF ARMISTICE:  
Full Text of Articles Dictated by Lucis_ **

 

**_WAR OVER_ **

 

~

 

Within the hour of Niflheim’s defeat NORA had received their citizenship papers as per Lightning and Noctis’ deal, but Lightning’s  _freedom_  turned out to be a major issue of contention.  Regis’ advisors wanted her to sign a document formally acknowledging that she had become a double agent in service of Lucis on her release, which Lightning had promptly torn up.  

“Let’s get one thing straight," she'd said.  "I chose the lesser of two equally evil outcomes;  _not_  choose to switch allegiances.  I haven’t forgotten who I am, or where I come from and frankly, neither should you.”

Noctis didn’t think that it’d be possible, but she’d simultaneously earnt the ire and respect of every single person present in that auditorium that day—Regis leaning more toward the latter.

“Strange how things turn out,” Regis said over breakfast the following morning.  “Saved by the very people we’d destroyed.  Then again, if you think about it, if I’d never given the go ahead, Lightning never would have become the soldier-spy she is, and we might not be standing here.  It’s a terrible question that shouldn’t be asked, but I still ask it anyway.”

“Which is?”

“Out of Lightning and I, which one of us should be more grateful?”

Noctis pushed aside his plate, opting to let coffee fuel him for the rest of the day. 

"Noct—"

“You’re right, that  _was_  terrible."

Regis nodded, pushing aside his plate as well.

 

~

 

“Okay.  I'll admit: I really thought thwarting Niflheim would be a lot more climatic like the media says it was,” Noctis remarked, a few days later in Lightning’s cell, watching her peruse the newspapers he had bought for her. He’d trained hard with Gladiolus in the days leading up to Operation: RtT, and had never wound up finding any use for his sword, save holding Aldercapt at knifepoint (swordpoint?) while Nyx corroborated his evidence on the Niflheim Army stationed just outside Lucis; imploring him to deploy the glaive.

He noticed Lightning eyeing him shrewdly.   “What?” 

“Deepest apologies,” she said, sarcasm heavy in her tone.  “I’ll be sure to classify  _keeping a low body count_  as ‘not-a-priority’ the next time I plan an Operation.”

Foot?  Meet mouth. 

“Sorry—”

“Let’s just move on,” Lightning said.  She went back to reading for a while, Noctis crossing his arms, lips tight, before she eventually relented, closing the paper with a groan.  “What?”

“Push me away  _all_  you want I’m still on your side,” he told her.  “You have every right to be frustrated about my father and the council.”

Lightning’s response was to pick up the newspaper and use it as a makeshift barrier between them until he finally gave up and left.    

Noctis was so busy reliving that sequence of events in his head he hadn’t noticed when the elevator had reached its destination until Crowe tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Your Highness—”

“Ah, sorry,” Noctis said sheepishly. He stepped outside, Crowe walking with him down the corridor.  “The past couple of days have been less than ideal.  I haven’t seen Nyx around, is he off sick?”

“Lady Luna invited him to lunch as thanks for rescuing her; they sent in an airship to pick him up this afternoon.  I just hope he doesn’t confuse his salad fork with the dessert fork.”

“Even if he did, Luna would never make a big deal out of it.” 

“Thank the Gods for that,” Crowe said.  “Your Highness, regarding Lightning’s situation. . .”

Noctis shrugged.  “Still no luck.  I want her out as much as you do, but—”

“No, it’s not that,” Crowe said.  “I’ve been talking to her.”

“You have?” 

“Whenever I get a spare moment.  I know everyone's anxious for a solution, but I’ve noticed  _no one_ , not even the King has actually asked Lightning what  _she_ wants.  Even if compromise is the last thing anyone wants, it might be the most viable option at this stage.” 

 

~

 

“Independence for Nova Chrysalia,” Lightning declared, and what little chatter there had been prior to her announcement was immediately swallowed up in silence.

And then chaos descended. 

“Outrageous!”

“She can’t be serious!”

“I knew agreeing to NORA would get to her head.”

“Utterly preposterous!”

“You asked me what I wanted.” Lightning shrugged.

“We have already granted your NORA friends citizenship; expunged their records!”

“Good, then it should be a piece of cake.”  Lightning crossed her arms, amazingly—despite the prison jumpsuit—managing to look more dignified and regal than the suited men gawking down at her. 

“Of all the  _ungrateful_!”

“Let’s just imprison her and be done with it!”

“Yes! Nova Chrysalia should not even be up for debate; to the victor go the spoils!”

“Indeed!”

“Indeed!”

Noctis glanced over to his father’s seat, frowning.  Regis noticed and shook his head as if to agree with Noctis, but did not intervene.  Noctis was just beginning to stand, when a hand reached out and stopped him.

“Your father needs to see if they can reach a compromise without him needing to intervene,” Clarus explained patiently. 

“I really doubt they can,” Noctis muttered, while Lightning and the council continued to come to blows. 

“I suspect your father feels the same,” Clarus said.  “Nevertheless, it is part of protocol.”

Noctis nodded and settled back into his seat grudgingly.

Six hours later (four of which Noctis had spent daydreaming about adamantoii with jetpacks and rockets mounted on their shells), the heated discussion had evolved into a full blown shouting match: Lightning’s calm veneer having deteriorated rapidly thanks to the Council’s unwillingness to discuss Luxerion.  Noctis was contemplating warping out and stealing a pair of earbuds when Regis finally stood, pounding the gavel until the auditorium was silent once more.

“As both the Council and Lightning have failed to reach an agreement in the required time frame, I have come up with the following compromise.”

Various members of the Council exchanged apprehensive looks.

Lightning crossed her arms.

“Nova Chrysalia will be granted independence—” the Council began to protest and Regis slammed down hard on the gavel, silencing them— “if, and  _only_  if the majority of the Nova Chrysali people vote  _for_  it in a referendum.”

“Sire we can’t possibly—”

“Agreed,” said Lightning.  She turned to the rest of the Council.  “I’ll sign as many papers as you want.”

“The dedication that woman has,” Clarus said.  “Amazing.”

Noctis nodded, at a loss for words. 

Regis peered at her.  “You haven’t yet heard what I’ve proposed for  _you_  in exchange.”

“I don’t need to.  Agreed anyway.”

“Even if I were to sentence you to execution for conspiring to assassinate my son and Lady Luna two years back?” Regis challenged. 

Noctis found himself reeling, glancing from Regis to Lightning, who did not blink while a silent exchange took place between them.  A few Council members smiled gleefully; a few others rubbed their hands together.

“If that’s what it takes,” Lightning said at last, not the least bit apologetic.

Noctis knew he shouldn’t have found that bravery admirable considering she  _did_ conspire to kill him and Luna, but he  _did_ ; and  _Gods_  that should have been  _worrying_  but he  _wasn’t_.  Heart pounding fast, he turned to his father, wondering what the verdict would be.

Regis was smiling.  “You’re very sure they will vote in favour of independence,” he said. 

“ _Dead_ sure. Your Majesty,” she added, in a much more respectful tone.  Regis nodded, turning to everyone else hanging on to their every word. 

“That concludes today’s proceedings.  And now if everyone present will give us the room—” Regis held up an A4 envelope embossed with the Lucis coat of arms for all to see—“Lightning and I will further discuss her future.” 

Noctis tried to catch her eye on the way out to offer encouragement—to no avail.  Her gaze was fixed on the envelope that would seal her fate.  Clarus squeezed his shoulder encouragingly as they filed out of the auditorium. 

“She’s in good hands, no need to worry.” 

They walked over to a bench by the windows, watching the rest of the Council leave. 

“Yeah, but.   _Execution_ , Clarus?  After everything she’s done to help us?”

Clarus heaved a sigh. “Conspiring to assassinate you is no small matter, Noct.  In fact,  _that_  has to be the least of her sins while serving under Niflheim’s banner.”

“No, of course not, I  _understand_ , it’s just. . .” he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the closed auditorium doors.   _I owe her._

Clarus smiled.  “You’re thinking about Luxerion, aren’t you?”

Noctis continued to stare ahead.  “I just hope whatever dad’s got instore for her is fair.”

“It will be,” said Clarus.  “Just bear in mind that ‘fair’ should not be automatically be equated to ‘desirable’.  It’s compromise, Noct.  Our victory over Nova Chrysalia was a great boost to the morale of not just the Lucis army, but your fellow countrymen as well.  For us to relinquish control of a territory that has historically had so much bad blood with us since the beginning of the Caelum dynasty is, you have to admit, a ‘ _weak’_  move.”

“Or it maybe it could be a foundation for a potential friendship with the Nova Chrysali people.”

Clarus chuckled.  “The Nova Chrysali people. . .  or Lightning?”

Noctis flushed.  “That’s not what I—” The Shield continued to laugh— “I’m getting  _married_ Clarus!”

It went on like that for a solid fifteen minutes, a few of the palace personnel giving them odd looks as they passed, Noctis starting to think he’d never hear the end of it until Nyx and Crowe simultaneously materialized in front of them. 

Crowe was smiling; Nyx looked resigned. 

“Ahh, just in time,” Clarus told them, rising to his feet. 

 _Just in time for what?_ “Is there an emergency?” Noctis asked. 

“There  _just_ might be,” Nyx muttered and Crowe kicked him in the shins.

“ _Stop_.” Crowe said.  “It’ll be fun.”

“Altius, I’m starting to think you and I have very different definitions of the word.”

The doors to the auditorium opened again, Noctis completely lost as the glaives took a knee. 

“The announcement will be made within the hour,” Noctis heard Regis say to Lightning. 

“Thank you, sire.” 

 _Sire_?  Noctis wondered.

“Altius, Ulric,” said Regis.  The two stepped forward.  “Everything ready?”

“Leave it to us sire,” said Nyx.  He and Crowe turned to her after Regis dismissed them and walked off with Clarus. 

Crowe offered Lightning a hand, smiling. 

“Welcome the glaive.” 

 

~

 

 

“So,” said Serah, when Noctis met her for lunch a month later at Lebreau’s.   “How’s she doing?”

Even with Nova Chrysalia unanimously voting in favour of independence Noctis wasn’t too sure.  As a glaive Lightning had her hands full: protection detail for his father during Niflheim’s demilitarization, guarding the crystal, training with Crowe to learn how to harness the crystal’s power.  He only saw her in the hallways, and never alone: always accompanied by Nyx or Crowe; sometimes even Libertus.  And though their fellow glaives had been informed that the ‘footage’ of them making out in Cell Thirteen had all been part of the plan to throw the traitors off their scent, Noctis knew asking to speak to Lightning alone would only get the rumour mill up and running again.  _Especially_  because Nyx still had that annoying  _look_  in his eye whenever their paths crossed.  Noctis decided to keep his distance.  They would talk when she’d fully settled into her role.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know how long that would take, though, or if she would settle _at all._  

 “We. . . haven’t really found time to talk,” he said, poking the untouched spinach that Rygdea had tried to sneak into his burger.  “I think the best person to ask would be Crowe. Nyx said they actually meet up outside of work.”

“Yeah they do,” Serah said. “They stop by every now and then during their shopping trips.  Crowe knows all the good places for bargain-hunting—not that those two would  _need_  to bargain hunt, with their salary.” Serah sighed enviously.

“We do have a lot of openings,” Noctis hinted.  Which was, honestly morbid: the Kingsglaive ranks had been severely depleted, following Aldercapt. 

“I think I’ll take my chances with chaotic kindergartners.”

“Well, anytime you’re considering a career change—” and Serah laughed.

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” Serah said.  “Anyway, how’s things with you?  Everywhere I turn I see news about your upcoming wedding.”

“You’ve probably heard from Lightning what the colour scheme is,” Noctis said, acutely aware that the tips of his ears had turned pink.

“I wasn’t actually going to bring it up, but—” Serah giggled, seeing him scowl.  She squeezed his wrist.  “Seriously though, how is everything going?  You all set?  Got your vows memorized?”

“Your sister thinks it’s a ‘farce’.”

“Oh that’s just one person’s opinion,” said Serah. “I happen to think it’s very sweet that you’re marrying your childhood sweetheart.” Noctis coughed. “Isn’t she your childhood sweetheart?”

“She’s my best friend,” Noctis said, blushing.  “I mean we’re close but it’s never really been uh. . .”

Serah finally clicked, leaning back in her seat again. “Ahh I see it now.  Wow, that’s really admirable of you.”

“Why do you say admirable?”  Noctis was really starting hate that word; he heard people whisper it in the corridors every time the wedding was mentioned.

“Well, the whole point of marrying Luna was to seal the Peace Treaty with Niflheim but now that you’ve won the war, there actually isn’t any real need to, is there?”

“There isn’t,” Noctis agreed.

“So why go ahead with it?”

“I made a promise,” Noctis shrugged.  “And I always keep my promises.  Luna’s been as much a constant in my life as the guys. If there’s anyway I can be there for her like she has for me then the details don’t matter.”

“My friend, you are cut from a noble cloth.”

“Thanks.”

“A very  _opaque_ , noble cloth,” Serah muttered under her breath. 

 

~

 

Noctis considered himself well-versed in wedding traditions: the bouquet throwing, the garter throwing, not being allowed to see the bride the day of.  Naturally, when the day came and he was at the altar with the guys, and Luna had opted instead to stride down the aisle sans bridesmaids and her wedding dress, her announcement flew right over his head the first couple of times.  Luna, thankfully, had known him well enough to anticipate this kind of reaction.  She squeezed his hand, and that helped bring him out of his stupor. 

“I said I can’t marry you.”

“I knew it!” Prompto declared. Gladiolus smacked him upside on the back of the head. “Erm, sorry, please carry on.”

Noctis stared at her, still reeling. “I. . .why not?”

Regis sank further into his seat, slowly burying his face in his palm.  Clarus squeezed his shoulder consolingly.

“A number of reasons: 1) marriage was part of Aldercapt’s plan and I’m weirded out knowing that it was and I really  _cannot_  get past it 2) marriage is redundant seeing as the war has ended and if I’m being brutally honest  just downright  _archaic_ —there are better, more productive ways to foster good ties: trade and commerce for example, and 3) I love you Noct, but if I had to marry someone whose attention I’d have to compete for every second I’m with them, I’d lose my mind within the space of a week.  Now, if you’ll kindly excuse me, I have a country to run.”

Kissing him on the cheek, the queen of Tenebrae nodded curtly at Regis, strode out of  _The Palamecia_  and climbed into a waiting cab with Gentiana, bound for the airport.

 

~

 

Because Regis didn’t want the hard work of The Palamecia staff to go to waste, the wedding had been quickly converted into a celebration of Lucis-Tenebrae ties, to be concluded with a fireworks display at the end of the night.  Noctis, still needing time to get his head around it, made a quiet retreat to the balcony, closing the doors behind him.  He spent the better part of an hour there, staring down at Insomnia, the bottle of wine he’d stolen forgotten at his feet while he tried to block out endless replays of Luna’s announcement in his head.  And the drunk dignitaries telling him there were plenty of fish in the sea.

There was an unnatural shift in the wind behind him.  Noctis closed his eyes and laughed.

“You’re going the right way for an assassination attempt,” Lightning said, stepping out of the shadows. 

Noctis turned, ready to shoot back a retort but stopped short instead, quietly studying her. Lightning tensed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Noctis smiled as she moved beside him, leaning against the railing.  “You look good in black.”

“Mm yeah, black is good for hiding blood stains,” Lightning said, giving him a sideways glance. “Can see why it’s the national color.”

Noctis chuckled quietly.

“So,” Lightning started.  

“Fine, you can gloat.”

“Gloating’s more fun when the  _losing_   _party_ ,” she nudged him “is too stubborn to admit it.  Plus yellow never really was your colour to begin with.”

“Cool, so we’re free to talk about other things.”

“As long as they’re not about relationships," Lightning said.  "I’ll need alcohol for that.” 

Noctis looked at her, appalled.

“Aren’t you on duty?”

“Actually, Crowe and I just got back stateside—top secret, can’t tell you—we came as soon as we heard the news.”

“There’s been news?” He didn’t expect word to get out  _that_  fast.  This day was getting worse and worse.

“Just a group text from Nyx.”

Of course.

“You’re not going to need alcohol,” Noctis said.

Lightning looked at the bottle of wine wistfully.  “Shame,” she said.

“Did you really plot to kill me all those years back?”

Lightning was quiet for a moment.  “Yes.”

“Can I ask how you would have gone about it?”

Lightning looked at him strangely.  “I know you’re down about your failed marital exploits, but this morbid,” she said.

“I’d honestly rather talk about  _that_  than anything marriage-related.”

“Fair enough,” Lightning conceded.  “It would have been the same deal with Niflheim, only, I would have fed you the wrong information and seduced you.”

Noctis scoffed.  “Seduce me.”

“If you have to say that, then you really don’t know a thing about seduction.”

“What, like there’s an ‘art’ to it?”

“Of course there is.  Seduction’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“They teach you that in spy school?” Noctis teased. 

Lightning elbowed him. 

“That’s not my point,” she said.  She stepped closer and Noctis tensed.  “ _My point_  is that you’ve  _already_  been seduced but you haven’t realized it.”

Noctis took a moment to cycle through past conversations with her.  “Bullshit,” he pronounced afterward.

“You’ve secretly been longing for adventure—a taste of the world outside the Lucis border, outside the palace  _walls_  even.  With the wedding bearing down on you I knew I would be the distraction you’d been looking for. I became your catharsis.”

Were she and Ignis talking about him behind his back now?

“Even if you’re right about that, I never made any advances—”

“I know about the cameras, Noct.”

Noctis stared.

“Libertus told me.  A few days after we saved Crowe.”

Noctis wanted a black hole to swallow him into the abyss right about then, but because that had a million to one chance in happening, he moved away from her instead and glared at Insomnia, face burning with embarrassment.  Lightning laughed quietly and punched him in the arm.

“Hey,” she said. “I  _did_ tell you you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were.”

Noctis fiddled with his cufflinks, avoiding her eyes. “Why play along?”

“I was in a cell 24/8. I only got to go outside for one hour of the day  _if_  it was sunny. Do the math: I was  _bored_.”

“So you  _don’t_  think I have nice hair,” Noctis confirmed, frowning at her.

“No, I happen to think you have  _really_  nice hair.”

Lightning paused to let that sink in.  Behind her, the first set of fireworks began to shoot into the night, exploding in a brilliant shower of colour.  Her smile spread wider the longer he stared at her, and eventually her cheeks tinged pink.  She looked away.

“You’re attracted to me,” Noctis realized. He moved closer toward her and feeling brave, touched her wrist, fingers grazing hers, itching to hold her hand, but unsure of how well that would be received.

“I’m attracted to your dedication and open-mindedness,” Lightning said.  “Naiveté eh, not so much.   _Although_ ,” her voice lowered, catching his chin between her fingers “this body doesn’t hurt.”

She kissed him then, ever so gently, like she knew he was going to bolt and in the background someone wolf-whistled—Nyx, if Noctis had to guess.

Lightning started to pull away. 

Noctis caught her swiftly by the elbows, holding her in place. 

“Wait,”

“For what?” Her eyes traced his mouth, gaze darkening.  A flash of heat hit him hard, kindling something primal inside his chest. His grip tightened.

“I don’t know if I should trust you,” he murmured, fully aware that he was pulling her closer, bending his head a little.

“I’m not really asking you to trust me, am I?”  Lightning said.  She kissed him again. 

“Light I—” Noctis tried, but Lightning licked deep into his mouth and he moaned, forgetting how to think.  If not for her reflexes in catching him, he would have staggered backward.  Her arms came around his neck after that, fingernails caressing his nape.

“Light I?” she asked.

“Fuck it.” Noctis decided. 

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and warped the two of them right off that balcony without a moment’s notice.

 

~

 

They stumbled into the penthouse suite with about much grace as two freight trains colliding, Noctis torn between struggling with the numerous buckles of her uniform and grinding up against her.  Lightning, who faced zero complications in divesting him of his shirt and belt, laughed quietly into his ear, kissing him on the jaw. 

“Need a hand?” she asked.  She watched him kick off his shoes, pull off his socks.

“I think it’s safe to say your uniform is acid-proof, stain-proof, bullet-proof  _and_  sex-proof,” Noctis declared, scowling at her uniform like it was a complicated puzzle.

“Thankfully we glaives have a solution figured out,” Lightning said. 

She stepped back and in the blink of an eye vanished, uniform suspended in the air for a half-second before crumpling to the ground. 

Before Noctis could wonder where she’d disappeared to, she came up behind him, arms wrapping around his stomach, her chest a welcome warmth against his back.  She kissed his shoulder.

“Impressed?”

“I’m  _very_  impressed.”

One of her hands slid down and cupped him.  

“Mm. I can tell,” she replied cheekily.

Noctis turned in her embrace and kissed her, hands sliding everywhere just because they  _could_ : squeezing her ass, cupping her breasts, fingering the clasp of her bra before unhooking it.  He let her push him back onto the bed and pin his hands above his head.

Her pendant caught his eye then, hovering in the air between them.  He remembered Serah being surprised when she’d seen it around his neck—apparently it had been the first time Lightning had ever entrusted it to anyone who  _wasn't_ family. 

“You’re either really clumsy or she genuinely cares about you,” she’d said.

His concern must have shown on his face because Lightning poked him.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I hope you’re not sleeping with me because you feel sorry for me.”

Lightning laughed into his chest.  He stroked her hair, really beginning to like that sound—even if he was the one she was laughing at.  He watched her sit up on his stomach, nails gently grazing his abs.

“Never, in the entire time I spent around you have I  _ever_  felt sorry for your  _pretentious_ ,  _privileged_ ,  _sheltered_  Lucii ass,” Lightning declared.  “Besides, I can think of a  _hundred_  better reasons to sleep with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

She tugged at his trousers and he raised his hips slightly to help her pull them off. Her eyebrows rose in interest.  “So Prince Noctis likes to go commando, does he?”

Noctis pulled her up, rolled them over. He bent his head, kissing her collarbone, lips moving against her skin, lower and lower.

“Oh like you’ve never done it before,” he murmured.

“I haven’t, actually, and I  _wouldn’t_.” Noctis raised his eyebrows at her.  “Occupational hazard,” she explained.  “I work with a lot of horny men.”

“Then I recommend it—outside of work.  It’s very . . .  _freeing_.” He tugged her underwear off and tossed it over his shoulder.  Settled himself between her legs, hands smoothing up her thighs. 

“If you’re wondering, I did notice you staring,” Lightning said.

“Nothing gets past you, huh?”

Her laugh turned into a sharp gasp of breath when his tongue slid inside. Hot, slick.  Strong laps of tongue determined to get her wetter and wetter. Her fingers raked through his hair, heels digging into the mattress to grind against him, moaning when he began to pump his fingers inside her.  He kept the pace slow, partly because he wanted to torture her but mostly because he was amazed at the sounds she was making.  Ego had him wanting to draw it out for as long as he could.  This was one fantasy he never anticipated coming true and Gods, was he going to make the most of it.

“Etro where did you even  _learn_...”she whispered, fingers fisting hard in his hair.

“That’s not my name,” Noctis teased.

He kissed her belly ring, winked at her, and then went for gold, sucking hard on her clit while his fingers scissored inside her.  Lightning’s head fell back against the pillows, squirming and writhing beneath him, Noctis continuing to pump her through the aftershocks when she finally came, sinking limply into the mattress, out of breath.  He kissed the inside of her thigh, certain he hadn’t heard anything hotter in his life and grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“What was that about being ‘sheltered’?” he teased.  He moved back up to kiss her. 

“Shut up,” she mumbled against his lips, one foot sliding up along the inside of his leg.  They kissed like that, him laying warm and heavy over her for a while until she pulled back to look at him, eyes considerably lucid now.  She pushed some of his fringe out of his eyes, letting her fingers skim his jawline as she pulled her hand back. 

“That was nice of you, by the way—you didn’t have to do that.  I usually tend to skip foreplay altogether.”

“No time during wartime?”

She shrugged.

Noctis propped himself up on his elbows, holding himself above her.  Gods, but she was beautiful: moonlight streaming through the open balcony onto her skin, pink hair splayed against the silky pillows.  To think that she’d wanted him.  Him when she could have had anyone else—he’d seen the lustful gazes, knew all about the locker room talk in the barracks whenever Gladiolus swung by. 

“No, it’s okay; I wanted to.” He said, suddenly feeling shy.  Her hands were around his neck again, toying with his hair.

“You’re really sweet.” She sighed. “Remind me how you’re still single?”

Noctis grimaced and looked away. “I’d. . . rather not.”

She touched his cheek, turning him back.

“Too soon?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Let me make it up to you then.”

She warped the two of them, the world spinning Noctis around in a blur; dumping him onto his back.  Lightning landed on top of him, smirking.  She reached down between them, curling her fingers around him. He groaned, head falling back onto the pillows, hands grasping at the silk sheets.

“Light,” he managed to gasp, “don’t tease.”

She bent forward and nipped at his chest.  “Teasing should be the least of your worries.”

“Light I—” he groaned again as her lips closed over him, working her tongue over him in a way that made his toes curl.  His hands fisted into his sheets fighting the urge to thrust up into her mouth. 

“Wait,  _Gods_ ,” the next groan he made was loud enough to be heard in the hallway outside, and he bit down on his lip, trying to strangle the next one.  He didn’t want to fall over the edge so soon, but if she kept going like this—he gently pushed her shoulder and she pulled back, smiling as she got the hint. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say delayed gratification is one of your kinks, Caelum.”

Noctis blushed profusely. “Are you on. . . because I don’t have any—I mean I  _thought_  I was getting  _married_  so I didn’t think I needed—”

“ _Who_  do you think you’re talking to?” Lightning demanded. She pointed at herself. “Soldier. Spy.  _Kingsglaive_?  Birth control goes without saying.”

“Still—” Noctis moaned involuntarily when she squeezed him. He tried again, the words trailing out of him on a sigh.  “I just. . . I wanted to make sure—”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, trust me.”

She sank down onto him, Noctis bucking up against her. He couldn’t resist teasing:

“I distinctly remember  _you_  saying  _not_  to trust you.”

“Did I?” She planted her hands on his chest and pushed herself up, rolling her hips.  Her breasts were amazing at this angle.

Noctis fell into the rhythm she set for them, hands mapping every bit of skin he could reach—not quite sure where to stop, not quite sure he wanted to stop: skimming along the flex of muscle in her back, the contrasting softness of her breasts, the dimples above her ass. . .

. . . and then he found it: the tiny space between them that, when he grazed his thumb against it, had her stuttering out of rhythm and gasping wonderful things like ‘ _oh fuck_ ’ and ‘ _harder_ ’ and his favourite: ‘ _Noct_ ’. 

He took over, pushing up harder against her-- ‘ _faster, Noct’_  --hands gripping her hips while he rammed up into her. She jerked against him and came, biting down on his shoulder to stifle her screams.

And still he continued to move.

“That was,” she started to say, and then “oh Gods you’re  _still_. . . ” Another moan ripped from her throat after he sat up and pulled her with him, causing her to sink further onto his cock.  “ _Etro_ ,”

“Still not my name,” Noctis groaned, thrusting harder into her. 

The new, deeper angle had her voice rising by an octave, had her nails catching purchase on his shoulders, digging into his skin, holding on for dear life as her second orgasm began to build. 

“You feel amazing,” he whispered, still rocking his hips against hers, still feeling the residual ripples from her first climax.  He sucked one of her breasts into his mouth, kissed the tattoo in the centre of her chest (that he would  _definitely_  ask about later), her collarbone, her neck. The little parts of her jaw that he could reach. 

“So  _hot_...”

“Noct—” she gasped.

“ _Much better_.”

He was hard, painfully so, but her moans were so hot, so  _addictive_  and he’d never been more turned on in his entire life by what he saw—Lightning hot and sweaty and over stimulated, hair clinging to her forehead, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, lips occasionally trailing sloppy kisses over his face and the sensitive space between his neck and ear. 

Before he even realized, his pace had picked up and he was suspended above her on his elbows, essentially drilling into her at an almost animalistic pace, her breaths starting to come out in sharper gasps in his ear.  She gripped his biceps and braced herself, winding her legs tighter around his waist, working her hips urgently against him. 

“Yeah there, right there—oh  _Gods_ —Noct—”

“I gotcha,” Noctis said. 

And boy,  _did_  he.

She stilled suddenly, howling as another orgasm swept over her, biting down on his skin while he rode her through it.  Those two sharp, opposing sensations of pain and pleasure were enough to finally drive him home and he came hard, collapsing on top of her.

“Heavy,” she said when she could talk again, fingers poking at him in the side.  He shifted and heard her whimper a little as he pulled out of her, still trying to catch his breath, the cool night air a welcome balm against his heated skin. Eventually she shivered, rolling away to tug the covers out from under him, before climbing back in and covering them both.

“Light—”

“Tired,” she murmured.  Her eyes had drifted shut; there was a blissed-out smile on her face. “Talk in the morning.”

“Morning,” Noctis agreed, curling in toward her with a yawn, one hand curving possessively over her hip.  He closed his eyes and slipped into his dreams almost immediately afterward: no adamantoii this time, but there  _was_  Lightning, running barefoot through a grassy plain and he was chasing her, her laughter carrying in the wind toward him while she urged for him to catch up.

He never caught her, but that was fine; the reality waiting for him come sun up had to be better than  _anything_  he could have ever imagined.

And he looked forward to it.

 

~

 

He should have figured Lightning would be up this early on a Sunday morning when he rolled over expecting to curl up into a warm, human body, grumbling when his hand touched cold, empty mattress instead.  He heard her laugh and cracked one eyelid open.  The curtains were billowing in the morning breeze, sun high and shining on the hotel balcony, but there wasn’t any sign of her in the deck chairs.

“Down here,” Lightning said. 

Noctis rolled over to her side of the bed, and saw her on the floor by the window, surrounded by food on gleaming silver trays: pancakes, fresh fruit, a steaming pot of coffee, a few sandwiches, bacon and eggs, some toast.  She was wearing his shirt.

“They have a free dry-cleaning service,” she explained, when he started scanning the room for her Kingsglaive attire.  “Thought I’d make use of it.”

“Yellow looks good on you, actually.”

“Shut up.”

Noctis wrapped the sheets around his waist and sat across from her, pouring himself some coffee. He sighed happily pulling the tray of bacon closer to him. 

“I could get used to this,” he said. 

“Aren’t you already?” Lightning teased.

“Well,” he smirked, looking at her and very much enjoying the view of her bare legs, “ _you’re_  a nice bonus.”

“Kiss ass,” Lightning said.  He shrugged and made a start on the pancakes.

“So,” he said, chewing.

She cleared her throat. “ _So_.”

“Last night was. . . ” he smiled as she smiled, content with letting the rest go unsaid. She had been there;  _she_  knew.

“Yeah,” Lightning said.  She bit into a strawberry, some of the juice trickling down the side of her mouth.  Noctis tried not to stare.  “Is it going to be awkward for you?”

“Wasn’t aware it was supposed to be,” Noctis remarked and Lightning peered at him curiously.  “I mean,” he took a deep breath,  _cards on the table_. “I really,  _really_  like you.”

A slow smile spread across her face. She bit into a sandwich.  “I kinda noticed. . . last night.”

Noctis blushed, spearing three layers of pancakes on a fork and dipping it into cream. “Uh, so . . . where does that leave us?”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” Lightning said hesitantly while they ate.  She looked out the window, through the gaps in the balcony railings to the city below, breeze brushing her hair back.  “It’s just, post-war with Lucis and the Kingsglaive—I haven’t really had any time to myself. To breathe and, you know, figure things out.  I  _do_  like you; I just haven’t had the greatest track record with relationships.”

“No, you don’t have to explain,” he told her, surprised at how well he understood. “I can kind of see where you’re coming from.”

“Plus there’s the tiny detail of your  _dad_  being my  _boss_.”   

“Yes,  _that_ tiny detail,” Noctis muttered, and they both laughed.  

Lightning pushed her plate away, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands.  Her expression was pensive.  “What do we tell people?” she asked. 

Noctis frowned.  Tell people?Last night had meant something to him—he didn’t want to cheapen the memory of it by having  _everyone and their mother_  finding out. Or in Noctis’ case, his  _father._

“ _Do_ we have to tell people?” he said. 

Lightning snorted.  “You don’t seriously think this can stay secret for long, do you?”

“I  _know_  how to keep a secret, Light.”

“Right. I keep forgetting who I’m talking to.”

She passed her phone to him then, showing him a group chat between the members of the Kingsglaive, spearheaded by the demon himself—Nyx Ulric.  Apparently there had been a poll going on about how long it’d take for him and Lightning to finally crack and give in to the sexual tension.  Nyx, to Noctis’ little surprise, had bet they’d ‘seal the deal’ within an  _hour_  of Nova Chrysalia’s Independence.  Asshole.

“Crowe won, if you’re wondering,” Lightning said.   

“Well, she always was perceptive.” Noctis handed her phone back to her.

“Actually,” Lightning was smiling now, “we decided to split the take when she told me about the bet.”

When Noctis’ eyes narrowed suspiciously at her she scoffed and poked him with her foot. 

“Don’t complain;  _you_  got something out of it, too,” she said and Noctis smirked. 

He went back to eating, watching her in the corner of his eye while she scrolled through her phone until she finally got annoyed and looked at him.

“What? Hate it when you stare,” she muttered.

“I was just thinking: if last night’s not going to be awkward, and we both like each other . . .I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“I always knew you were a punk,” Lightning said, but she was smiling.   

She stood and began unbuttoning her— _his_  shirt, tossing it at his head before disappearing into the bathroom.  Moments later the sound of running water filled the suite, steam curling in the air outside the door.

Noctis stared at the shirt in his hands, the residual body heat beginning to kindle a certain part of his anatomy. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

“I left the door open, didn’t I?” Lightning called, and Noctis wasted no time in warping across the room, one lone mustard yellow silk shirt floating gently down to the ground, forgotten.

 

~

 

Noctis figured telling the guys would probably be anti-climactic given they’d all been speculating about him and Lightning since before they beat Aldercapt.  Even so, he wanted to wait until they were nearly to Lestallum—a safe distance away from Lightning—to tell them.  He saw no reason for the villa Regis’ assistant had booked (for the honeymoon) to go to waste, so he decided to use it as a thank you gift (read: bribe—it was totally a bribe) for his friends.  He shuddered to think of what would have happened had they not had faith in him when it came to working with Lightning. Ultimately, she had come through for Lucis and had proven she could be trusted, so it was all good, but the curiosity about ‘what if’ still poked at him at odd times of the day and every time it happened he was reminded of how lucky he was that they had his back.  The expensive villa was small change in the grand scheme of things.

They were passing a road sign welcoming visitors into the tourist town when Noctis finally bit the bullet.  He leaned forward and turned the radio down. 

_Ain’t no mountain high en-_

“Hey that was the best part!  _Ruuude_!” Prompto said, pouting. 

“ _Finally,_ ” said Gladiolus, popping out his earbuds.  “Thought it’d never end.”

“Noct?” Ignis asked, studying Noctis in the rear-view mirror.  All of them were watching him now.

“I kind of slept with Lightning.”

“Called it!” Prompto declared pumping a fist. He turned to Ignis, smug. “And you said he’d never make the first move.  You owe me a hundred gil.”

“You sound so  _sure_ ,” Gladiolus teased, nudging Noctis while Ignis shoved a couple of notes into Prompto’s outstretched hand.  “It was during the wedding night wasn’t it?”

Noctis stared. “How did—did Nyx tell you?” 

“ _Ulric_  knows too?” Prompto laughed, stuffing his winnings into his wallet.  “Guess he’s not a Kingsglaive for nothing, huh Gladio.”

“Indeed he is not.”

“So then wait—how do  _you_  guys already—”

“Noct,  _buddy_.” Gladiolus put a hand on his shoulder, looking sagely at him. “When the  _Crown Prince of Lucis_  disappears from his  _own_   _party_ , everyone notices.”

“Well,  _that_  and the fact that Prompto got a good shot of you guys making out on the balcony,” Ignis added.

“For posterity.” Prompto winked. 

Noctis buried his face in his hands, groaning.  “And my dad?” he asked. 

“Don’t worry, he had his hands full with keeping the visiting dignitaries entertained,” Ignis said.  “I think a few of them had daughters they wanted to introduce you to?”

“ _Great._ ” Noctis muttered. 

Gladiolus patted him on the back. Ignis turned the radio up again. 

_Ooh child  
Things are gonna get easier_

“So how was it?” Prompto wagged his eyebrows up and down. “Was it good?  I bet it was.”

“It was. . .” Hot. Intense. Wild. A little dangerous. “It was nice,” said Noctis, feeling his face heat up. 

Gladiolus pulled him into a headlock.

“Well look at  _you_ ,” he crowed, grinding his knuckles in Noctis’ hair before Noctis pushed him off.  “ _Nice,_ Cassanova says.” 

Prompto snickered.  “You sly dog,” he said. “We all know you’ve been making googly eyes at her in the corridors—”

“You’re not exactly subtle about it either,” Ignis added. 

“Pining, staring, lurking around the Training Ground. . . ” Gladiolus listed off of his fingers.

“And so no one thought you’d ever make a move,” Prompto said.  “You know, with the wedding and all.”

“Kudos for proving us wrong,” Gladiolus said, punching Noctis in the shoulder. 

“Actually,” Noctis said, blushing “ _she_ made the first move.”

Gladiolus whistled.

“Called it,” said Ignis, now navigating the Regalia through Lestallum’s busy sunlit streets.  Prompto grumbled and handed back the money Ignis had given him.

“So now what?” said Gladiolus. “Are you guys like, a thing or. . . ” he gestured vaguely.

“She’s not ready for a relationship, so it’s mainly just casual—” Noctis started, and the group groaned: Gladiolus shaking his head, Prompto sighing.  “What?” he demanded.  “What’s the problem?”

The Regalia rolled to a halt in their hotel's driveway; a valet hurrying over to Ignis' door to take the keys while they started climbing out.   

“The  _problem_ ," Ignis said, while the Regalia was taken away, "is that  _you_ don’t do casual."

 

~

 

Ignis was right; Ignis was  _always_  right. 

Never stopped Noctis from trying to prove him wrong, though.

 

~

Six months spent sneaking around with Lightning was a whole new record of stubbornness Noctis would have been proud of had he not been so  _miserable_.  The sex was good; he was totally not complaining about it—he’d  _never_ complain about it—Gods, the  _things_  they got up to.  He knew she’d be immensely resourceful from her past stint as a soldier and then spy; but he’d never expected that resourcefulness to translate to the bedroom.

(Lightning was  _scarily_  creative with warping. Or maybe the right word was  _experimental_.  There had been a few situations that could have turned hairy—like that time they tried having sex while warping and rolled off the palace rooftop,  _down past his father’s office_ —but it was fun.  _She_ was fun.) 

But like any high, there were also lows.  What he had with Lightning wasn’t a ‘relationship’, it was ‘ _casual’_ , and because they’d agreed on ‘ _casual’_  she never stayed the night. And lately, it was getting harder and harder to watch her swiftly pull on her uniform; almost like she couldn’t get away fast enough.  And that stung more than he was willing to admit.

“What’s on your mind?” Lightning asked.  She was perched on the edge of his bed, presently zipping up her boots. 

“What do you mean?”

She finished zipping up the last one and turned to him, looking at him reproachfully. “You’ve been quiet—not that you  _always_  are; you just seem quieter than  _usual_.  Brooding.  Something happen?”

The problem was that  _nothing_ was happening.

“No,” Noctis said. “It’s. . .”

He hesitated, eyes flickering guiltily to his bedside clock:  _3AM_. The glaive always assembled at five to train. Lightning was at the peak of human physical conditioning but she was still human at the end of the day.  She had to have limits even though he’d never seen them. Was he being selfish?

“I take it you read the article too,” Lightning said.

“Article?”

“Front cover of  _Lux Girls_. ‘ _NOCTIS SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY WOMAN’_ ,” Lightning quoted sarcastically.

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck.  He’d been a magnet for those ever since the wedding disaster, and it didn’t help that Regis had relegated him to playing tour guide for his guests’ spouses or children while he ran off to schmooze trade deals over golf.  Most of the spouses were female, and most of the children were twenty-somethings who Regis was trying to set him up with.  Noctis and his father weren’t exactly high achievers in the ‘communicating about feelings’ department, and Regis seemed to think a perfect solution for the wedding disaster was to keep a steady inflow of potential companions to take Noctis’ mind off Luna.  His heart was in the right place, but Noctis had no intention of telling him about Lightning just yet. That was  _one_  awkward conversation he would rather put off for as long as humanly possible.

“Lunch with the Solheim Ambassador’s wife,” Noctis remembered.  He hadn’t been able to get out of that one. “She wanted a tour of the museum.”

“Soon to be  _ex_ -wife,” Lightning called, having disappeared into the ensuite bathroom. From the light spilling out onto the carpet her silhouette was finger combing her hair.

“Is she?”

“She is,” Lightning confirmed. “She’s also young.  And pretty. . .” Noctis saw her stop, hands lowering to brace on the sink, staring ahead at her reflection.  “Noct.”

“Still here.”

“Should we stop?”

That made him sit up.  “Stop?”

“This,” said Lightning.  She came out of the bathroom and stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed. “ _Us_.”

“ _Do_ you want to stop?”

“I think we should,” Lightning said.  She didn’t meet his eyes.  “It might be political suicide for you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“So you’re sure you can weather this out like you did the wedding?  If word ever got out?”

“I. . . ”

Those past couple of months had been hell.  If it wasn’t on the news it was in the radio:  _poor poor Noctis left at the altar._  Luna on the other hand had been praised left right and centre for her progressiveness; a beacon of empowerment for girls and women alike.  And in the same vein these yea-sayers demonized him every chance they got, painting him as a symbol of the retrogressive and outdated.  

“Guess that answers my question,” Lightning muttered, turning on her heel. “Later.”

“Light—”

She vanished.

 

~

 

“I haven’t been able to talk to her since,” Noctis said, slinking down in his seat to stare at the ceiling.  Across the desk Ignis continued to type on his laptop, only pausing to push his glasses slightly higher on his nose.  Beside Ignis’ mouse sat a large caramel latte and some cookies Noctis had got him from Lebreau’s as a peace offering.  “Iggy I don’t know if she’s mad at me or—”

“No she’s definitely mad at you,” Ignis said, and when Noctis looked at him quizzically he added, “I guess if you didn’t pick up on that, then you also didn’t pick up on the death glares the other glaives have been giving you.”

“She was the one who wanted casual!” Noctis threw his hands in the air exasperatedly. “I never asked her for more.” 

“I know you didn’t. I don’t think that’s why she’s angry at you though.  You said she asked if you should stop. Instead of answering you deflected, just to protect yourself.  Which would have been admirable during a  _press conference_ ; not an intimate situation like that. You should have been  _honest_ , Noct.  Weren’t you paying attention when her friends said she hated politicians?”

Lightning hating politicians was the  _first_  thing Noctis had learnt about her.  “I thought I was the exception.”

“You  _are_ the exception, Noct.  Or at least, you  _were_  till you ran scared.”

“I didn’t—”

“So when she asked you if you’d be able to handle it if the media caught wind and you  _hesitated_ —that  _wasn’t_  you chickening out?”

Noctis slumped further in his seat. 

“You say you don’t want ‘casual’ but it seems to me that’s the only thing you can handle,” Ignis said. “So maybe it’s good that this thing between you two ended.  Casual hook ups have a higher success rate when you don’t bring any feelings into it.  And you Noct, had a  _lot_ of feelings going in.”

“Probably too much to be healthy,” Noctis admitted, sighing.

He spent a long time after that listening to the clock on the wall ticking toward four o’clock and Ignis typing on his laptop. 

“She’s so unnecessarily mean to you, though,” Ignis said eventually.  “None of us know whether to be entertained or worried.  You’re like a moth to the flame when you chase after her.”

Chasing, wasn’t the word Noctis would have used, but he knew better than to argue.  “So you like watching me get burned.  Good to know.”

“No, we like seeing you put in the effort—you’re lazy when you aren’t motivated.”

“Doesn’t that go without saying?  There really shouldn’t be any need to single  _me_  out.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Ignis shrugged.  “You’re usually  _never_  this invested.  Most times you just nope it out and go back to sleep.”

“Because I _care_  about her.”

“So  _tell_  her that.”

“She’s not looking for a boyfriend, Ignis.  Not only that; but there’s already so many things working against me: she’s from Nova Chrysalia, she used to serve Aldercapt, she thinks I’m ‘privileged’ and ‘pretentious’ and—”

“So . . . all of these things cross your mind when you’re with her, is that right?”

“What? No, of course not.” Noctis glared.

“Why not?”

“ _Because_ ,” said Noctis.  “None of it matters.”

Ignis smiled.

None of it matters.

None of it  _matters_.

 _None_  of it.

Noctis jumped to his feet.

“Now he’s getting it,” Ignis murmured. 

When he looked up again, Noctis had vanished, a swirl of crystal dust twinkling in the air above his chair.  He reached for his latte, taking a long sip. 

“Really need to work on getting that raise.”

 

~

 

The barracks were empty when Noctis showed up, which was curious, because he was sure he had Lightning’s work schedule memorized.  He was about to try Lebreau’s when the door to the bathroom opened, Crowe stepping out. 

“Uh, hey Crowe.  I’m looking for Light do you know where she is?”

The look Crowe gave him could have cut glass.

“You really don’t know?” Crowe said.

“That’s . . . why I’m trying to find her,” Noctis said awkwardly.

“Gods,” Crowe muttered to herself.

“What?” said Noctis. “Crowe—”

“Lightning was being blackmailed.”

“ _What_?”

“He threatened to leak damaging photographs of you to the press if she didn’t pay up.  It’d been going on for months until she tracked him down.  Very nearly killed the guy.  She was put on administrative leave.” 

“She also sent in her resignation this morning,” Nyx chimed in from behind, dumping his daggers onto his desk. He dropped into his seat and put his feet up, yawning.  “Your old man threw it out, of course.”

Noctis felt like his entire stomach had bottomed out.  “She can’t resign,” he said.  “Her contract is for life.”

“You really think that’s going to stop her?” Crowe said. 

 

~

 

Noctis materialized on the front steps of Lightning’s house just as she was locking the front door, a large black duffle bag lying at her feet.  Across the street a taxi was waiting, the driver sitting on the bonnet reading something on his phone.

“You’re running away?” Noctis said.

Lightning sighed, turning.

“What do you want?”

“I heard about—I wanted to see if you were okay,” Noctis said.  Lightning scoffed and crossed her arms.

“You should worry about the other guy.”

“I don’t care about the other guy; I care about—” Lightning’s eyes narrowed when he tried to take a step forward so he backed off— “I care about you.”

“Hmph. Don’t do me any favours,” Lightning said. She slung her bag over her shoulder and started down the steps, shouldering roughly past him. “Go home, Caelum. People can see—”

“I don’t want ‘casual’.” Noctis blurted. 

Lightning froze, just about to cross the street. She turned, scowling, but there was also confusion. 

Noctis took a deep breath.   _Honest.  Be honest._ “I never wanted ‘casual’ in the first place.”

“So why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was afraid of how you’d react.  I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“You still should have told me,” Lightning said.  “For your  _own_  sake,  _not_  mine.”

“It’s not  _about_ me—” Noctis tried to say, but Lightning had abruptly vanished, the duffle bag dropping heavily onto the ground.  She reappeared in the next instant and shoved him.  Noctis had never seen her so furious. 

(Actually, he’d never seen her furious, period. And it was the absolute wrong time to be thinking it, but Gods, was she  _beautiful_.)

“‘It’s not about me’—wake up! This is  _Luna_  all over again!” Lightning said.  “Do you have a martyr complex? Is that it? Do you honestly not care about your own happiness?” she shoved him again— “Do things  _for yourself_ , for once!”

Yeah. 

Fuck this. 

“Why do you think I’m  _here_?” Noctis demanded, catching her wrists before she could shove him again, forcing them down.  She could have easily broken out of his grasp if she wanted, but she didn’t, and that gave him hope.  He had never felt more brave or terrified in his entire life.  “ _This_  is me fighting for  _you_!   _This_  is  _me_  trying to make  _you_  stay—because I. want.  _you_.  This  _is_  me caring about my  _own_  happiness.  _For once_.”

Silence.

The cabbie cleared his throat.  “Hey, so like, does anyone need me or—”

“You can go,” Noctis growled, not taking his eyes off Lightning. 

“You’re  _staying_ ,” Lightning said, glaring. 

The cabbie's gaze shifted nervously between them.  “If I’m staying, I’m gonna have to charge—”

“I’ll  _pay_  you to go,” Noctis snapped, glaring over his shoulder at the guy. An array of swords materialized in the air, pointing right at him.

The cabbie held up his hands.

“Hey man, long as I get paid.”

Lightning stopped struggling and gently tugged at her wrists.  Noctis let go; albeit reluctantly.  His tone softened.

"Light—"

“I’ve always hated that about you,” she said quietly.  “When you don’t fight for what  _you_  want and let other people have their way—it makes me wonder if you even  _care._   You never give me a straight answer—I don’t know what I’m supposed to think.  It does my fucking head in.”

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” Noctis said.  “I’m shit at that if you haven’t noticed.”

“No, I definitely noticed,” Lightning said and he gave a weak laugh.  She took a deep, shaky breath. “If I’m going to stay—I really need you to have my back.”

“I have a hotline to the local news networks on my phone. I’ll ring them now if you want; schedule a tell-all—”

Lightning snatched his phone from him. 

Noctis blinked for a couple of seconds.  “I thought you wanted—”

She was blushing.  “I was thinking of something smaller in scale.”

“Name it.” 

“First, I need you to pay the cabbie for his time.”

“Done.”

“Second—”

“Um, I’ve got kids—” the cabbie interrupted.

“And tip him generously,” Lightning added. She glanced over at the cabbie. “I’m going to need your cell phone and any other recording devices you’ve got on you.”

“Or what?”

“ _Or_ ,” Lightning warped right in front of the cabbie, flashing him her Kingsglaive pin, “you  _don’t_  get paid and I throw you in jail for videoing us on private property.”

The cell phone was quickly relinquished, the cabbie considerably pale and sweating afterward.

“That’s all I got,” he said.  Lightning squinted at him. “Honest!”

“Noct, you can pay him now.”

Five minutes later Noctis and Lightning stood side by side, watching the cab speed down the street, tires squealing against the black top. He touched the small of her back, remembering.

“What was the second thing?” he asked.  Gently, because he could feel her shaking.    

“What?”

“Before that guy interrupted.”

Lightning’s expression turned sheepish.  “Dinner?”

“When you say dinner—do you mean like . . . a date?”

Lightning crossed her arms.  

Noctis grinned back.  “I’m  _kidding_.  I’d love to have dinner with you.”

“I’m feeling steak.”

“Steak it is.”

“And you’re paying,” Lightning said.

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“ _And_  you have to eat your vegetables,” Lightning added, smirking.

Noctis finally scowled.  Dealbreaker.  That totally sounded like a dealbreaker.  

“And if I don't?”

“If you  _don't_ ,” Lightning whispered, looping her arms around his neck, “then you go home  _alone_.”

Crap.

 

~

 

In their first month, things were low-key.  Their interactions in and around the palace were kept minimal and professional—to keep Regis from suspecting; something the majority of the glaive found amusing, as they’d promptly come up with a new poll to see how long it’d take for them to come clean.  Nyx banned Crowe from participating this time round.

They reached their third month, Noctis in front of the television preparing to break the news to his father (someone had posted up a video of them sneaking into a bathroom cubicle on the internet and the video had gone  _viral_ ) when Regis held up a finger for him to be silent.  On screen was a press conference that had been held earlier that afternoon.  Noctis disappeared into the kitchen to grab a soda in the meantime. He was walking back into the living room, in the middle of sculling it when his father upped the volume even further.

_“Your Majesty, what are your comments on your son sleeping with one of the Kingsglaive?”_

Noctis choked and spat out his drink.

The Regis on the television glared at the reporter so severely, the man shrank back into his seat.   

 _“My son is_ not _sleeping with a member of Kingsglaive; he’s_  dating  _her_. _Sleeping with her is a happy_   _consequence of the dating.”_

The reporters stared; Noctis too at the real-life Regis beside him—unsure whether to be relieved or horrified.

_“No further questions.”_

Regis switched off the television.

“You knew?” Noctis said weakly. Regis sighed.

“Son, the palace walls are thinner than you think.  Although; Lightning  _has_  been relatively easier to work with, so keep it up.”

Noctis grabbed a cushion and screamed himself blue in the face.

~

 

They had dinner with his father the following night, and every other month after that. 

Eventually Lightning asked him, with the cutest blush on her face, to be her boyfriend.  He said ‘yes’ naturally, on the conditions that a) they stop having sex in the palace and b) he never have to explain why.

 

~

 

**_TROUBLE IN PARADISE?_ **

“Sources close to the Caelum family say the two have been spotted arguing in the corridors following allegations of _cheating—_ ” Lightning rolled her eyes as she read that— “after Prince Noctis was spotted getting cosy with Queen Lunafreya during the Queen’s birthday weekend.  Lightning was also seen sneaking into the bathroom of Yusnaan with an unknown male companion—alright, that’s it, I can’t read anymore,” she laughed, tossing the tabloid back onto the table. 

“Don’t know why you even bother,” Noctis said, grateful he had his girlfriend’s attention front and centre again. “Listen, I’ve been thinking—”

“Aaaand one steak burger with fries; _extra_ salad for the _cheater,_ ” said Rygdea, setting down Noctis’, then Lightning’s meal onto the table. “And one fish burger with fries for the _sneaker_.  Enjoy _paradise_ , lovebirds,” he winked, chuckling while he sauntered away.

“So I was thinking,” Noctis scooped up half of his salad and dumped it onto her plate—“Light?”

Lightning was glaring at a group of teenaged girls—well to be accurate, the cover of a magazine one of them had been reading: **_BREAKUP IMMINENT?_**

Noctis nudged her leg under the table. “Light—”

“Wanna move in with me?” Lightning growled, her back still to him.

“I. . . you serious?”

“Yeah.” She turned back and frowned at her salad, but shrugged and speared her fork through it anyway. She looked up at him while she chewed.  “So how about it?  You in?”

“Are you asking because of that headline you just saw?”

“No,” said Lightning. Noctis stared hard at her.  “ _Partly_ yes,” she conceded, and he shook his head as he took a bite of his burger.  “A lot of your crap is at my place anyway. I thought I’d formalize it.”

“Damn,” Noctis muttered, chewing on some fries.

“How so?”

“Well. . . I was going to ask you to move in with _me_.”

“In the palace?” Lightning looked at him incredulously. 

Noctis frowned at her.  “What’s wrong with the palace?”

“ _Your dad lives there._ ”

“So what? He likes you.”

“He’s my _boss_ , Noct.”

“So. . . that’s a no?”

“It’s a _hell_ no,” Lightning declared. Noctis’ shoulders deflated.  And then she added, softly. “Seriously, I think you should move in with _me_.”

“But the internet at the palace is faster—” Noctis started to say, when she kicked him under the table.

“You’re going to choose the internet.” Lightning deadpanned.  “Over _me._ ”

“No, I’m going to choose _fast_ internet—” she kicked him a second time—“I’m _kidding_ ,” he laughed. 

They went back to eating, Noctis noticing an almost manic glint in Lightning’s eye.

“Uh…Light?”

“I’ll give them something to talk about,” she said, chewing vengefully.  Her tone was nothing short of murderous.

“Knew it,” Noctis sighed. 

 

~

 

Lightning’s annoyance with the paparazzi shadowing their every move in and outside of Lucis finally reached boiling point when she caught one of them going through their rubbish bins.  It would have been easier for them to move into the palace, behind the safety of the steel gates Noctis tried to tell her but she was not about to be beaten. 

“If I can spend weeks hiding in a trench from snipers,” she’d said, determinedly tugging his shirt up and over his head, hands sliding up his chest, “I can survive these assholes.”

“Is it really that hard to say no to her?” Prompto said, laughing after Noctis told him. They were in the living room presently defeating wave after wave of the zombie horde, twin headsets over their ears.

“It’s not,” Noctis said. They high-fived each other as the boss level began to load.  “She’s just . . . distracting.”

“Thought so; we hardly get time to see you these days.”

“What are you talking about? You’re here every week.”

“I mean as a _group_ ,” Prompto said. “Lestallum feels like a hundred years ago.  Let’s go out tonight—guys only.”

“Can’t do tonight,” Noctis said, “Lightning’s birthday is in two days and I have no idea what to get her.”

“If I help you find a present will you go?”

“ _If_ you help me find the _right_ present,” Noctis said. 

“Okeydokey, so lay it on me,” Prompto tossed his controller onto the coffee table, stretching back on the couch, arms crossed behind his head.  “What are we after?  Clothes? Jewellery? There was that jewellery place at Lestallum—”

“—we are _not_ driving all the way to Lestallum for jewellery,” Noctis said. 

Prompto was silent for a beat.

“Say, you guys had trouble with a photographer last week, didn’t you?”

“Among other things,” Noctis said. “Why?  You know a guy who sells paparazzi repellent?”

Prompto grinned. “As a matter of fact.”

 

~

Lightning was lying on the grass in their backyard in a daze while the black force of nature that had tackled her to the ground lapped enthusiastically at her face.  Noctis ended the video recording he’d shot with his phone, placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled.  The great dane immediately bounded back to his side, wagging her tail eagerly.

“Who’s a good girl?  Who’s a good girl? Whoa!” Noctis was knocked onto his back, laughing as she licked his face. “Okay, rhetorical question, my bad.  Don’t want you having an existential crisis, huh girl?”

“Um,” Lightning sat up awkwardly, bits of twig and grass in her hair.  There was a tiny smudge of dirt on her chin. “You got me a dog?”

“I got _us_ a dog,” Noctis corrected, in between laughing and wrestling with the mutt.  “Or rather, I got _you_ paparazzi repellent.  Say hello to Odin.”

“Odin?” Lightning repeated, and the dog bounded over to her, licking her face until she finally laughed. “Down,” she commanded and Odin flopped heavily into her lap, licking at Lightning’s fingers while she ran her knuckles through her fur, fingering the collar.  She smiled at Noctis, one eyebrow raised. “You already named her?”

“She’s a rescue,” Noctis moved closer to pet her.  “Cute isn’t she?”

“She’s _gorgeous_ ,” Lightning gushed—yes _gushed;_ Noctis thought he’d never live to see the day.  She looked over Odin at him.  “You realize this is starting to be a recurring theme for you, right?  Taking in strays?”

“Well, the first one was such an _overwhelming_ success I thought I’d try my luck.” Noctis grinned.  “So what’s the verdict?”

“I think I can turn her into an efficient killing machine,” Lightning said confidently.  She kissed Odin on the nose, her voice deceptively sweet.  “How about it, girl? You ready to break some cameras?”

Odin barked, licking her chin.

Noctis vaguely wondered what he’d unleashed on the world, hearing a statement like that.

 

~

 

The great thing about Odin was that she  _loved_ cameras, thanks to months of conditioning the mutt to associate dog treats with destroying every single one she came across.  The second great thing about her was that she was efficient: Noctis had never seen so many disgruntled reporters.  Their backyard the only casualty unfortunately, becoming the final resting place for hundreds of expensive DSLRs. 

“We’ve created a monster,” Lightning stated one afternoon, poking a chewed up zoom lens with her foot. But then she cackled, squeezed Noctis' shoulder and started back toward the house.

Noctis, meanwhile had fixated on the ‘we’ and ‘created’ part.

 

~

 

“I don’t see why you  _shouldn’t_  talk about it,” Ignis said when Noctis met up with the guys for a drink Saturday night. “At the same time if you’re not ready, then there’s no need to rush.”

“You’ll still have to talk about it  _eventually_ though,” Gladiolus said. He elbowed Ignis.  “Oi. You’re not allowed to coddle him on this one. Raising kids is serious business.  I know I have all my shit together, but Iris was a handful— _is still_ a handful.”

“I’m  _not_  ‘coddling’ him; I’m just telling him that if he’s  _not_  ready—”

Gladiolus held up a hand. “You can stop  _right_ there.” He turned to Noctis. “Noct,  _no one’s_ ever ready for kids.  Even the ones who say they are.  Do you know how old  _I_  was when I had to sit Iris down and tell her about the birds and bees?”

Ignis rolled his eyes, raising his beer to his lips. “And now you’ve  _completely_  missed the point I was trying to get across.”

“I say wait for  _her_  to bring it up,” Prompto said. He was smiling at a redhead blushing and giggling into her drink on the other side of the room.

“Oi,” Gladiolus snapped his fingers in front of Prompto’s eyes, “ _guys_  night.  No women allowed, or else Noct would have to bring Lightning.”

“I don’t mind bringing her—” Noctis started.

“We  _know_ ,” the group groaned in unison. Noctis shrugged.

Prompto sighed, looking wistful.  “But she’s so  _pretty_.”

“ _But_  she’s staring at Noct,” Gladiolus pointed out. Prompto grunted and turned in toward their booth.

“Whatever happens just be cool,” Ignis told Noctis. “And above all be honest.”

“But don’t, like, blurt it out in a panic,” Prompto said. “That’s gotta be the most embarrassing thing in the world.”

 

~

 

 _Second_  most embarrassing thing in the world, actually.  The title of  _most_  embarrassing went to Regis, who, after dessert one night set down his fork and looked straight at the two of them.

“So when can I expect grandchildren?” He was wiping his hands, all casual, like he’d just asked them about the weather.

Noctis spat out his coffee.  He glanced in horror at Lightning, an apology ready on his lips but stopped short, seeing her continue to spoon ice cream into her mouth, unfazed.

“Well?” Regis prompted. If Noctis could reach, he would have kicked him under the table, but their seating arrangement was such that Regis sat at the head, Lightning to his left, and Noctis beside Lightning.  (Lightning would have preferred  _not_  to be boxed in, but it was Regis’ palace; Regis rules.)

“We have a dog named Odin, does that count?” Lightning asked.

Noctis nudged her leg under the table.  After a few seconds she nudged back.  He noticed a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and relaxed a little, returning to his cheesecake.  He knew what that look in her eye meant:  _I’ll handle this_.

“A  _dog_  is not the same as a human child,” Regis stated.

“You haven’t even gotten to know her properly,” Lightning said.

Noctis snorted, and quickly coughed loudly to cover it up when Regis narrowed his eyes at him.

“As delightful as Odin is, she still doesn’t count.”

“If this is about last week, she thought you were in genuine danger—”

“She  _sat_  on me.” Regis deadpanned.

“She was trying to protect you—”

“Ninety kilograms—”

“ _Sixty_ kilograms,” Lightning corrected.

“Of dead weight  _on my chest_ ,” Regis said. “I could have asphyxiated—I  _was_ asphyxiating.  I  _actually_  passed out.”

Silence.

Lightning eyed Regis sharply.

“So what are you saying—you don’t like her; don’t want to walk her anymore or—”

“I didn’t say that.” Regis turned to Noctis. “ _When_  did I say that?”

Noctis shoved a huge piece of cheesecake in his mouth and shrugged noncommittally. 

Lightning was a tactical genius.

 

~

 

“How do you feel about surrogacy?” Lightning murmured, later that night. Noctis paused briefly in the middle of tracing patterns in her skin.

“Surrogacy?”

“Or adoption,” Lightning continued, fingers skimming along his chest.  “I don’t mind having kids—if that’s something you want. But if we’re going to have them, those are my conditions.”

“Can I be honest?” Noctis asked.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted you to be.”

“I’m not ready for fatherhood.  I’m still getting my head around being a  _pseudo_ -father to millions of people,” Noctis said. “Dad obsesses about it because I’m his only heir—keep the Caelum line going and all that.”

“Maybe just a little bit,” Lightning teased.  She kissed his chest, snuggling tighter into him and he kissed the crown of her head.  They lay quiet like that for a while, listening to sirens blaring in the distance. 

“You’re allowed to ask,” Lightning said eventually.  “I know you’re curious.”

“It’s your body; your rules.”

“I know it is. But you’re still allowed to ask.”

“Surrogacy and adoption are very specific conditions,” Noctis admitted. 

“It’s not that I don’t want kids; I  _do_ ,” Lightning said.  “But getting pregnant would affect my ability to do my job. I’d rather not deal with the whole ‘pushing a living human being out of my vagina’, ‘uncontrollable weight gain’, ‘back pain’ thing if I can make use of these options.  Pregnancy is just a biological state at the end of the day and I am  _not_ sitting on the side lines for the time it takes to recover from it.  I’m not going to let it stop me from being a glaive.”

“So we’re. . .  _outsourcing_ ,” Noctis confirmed, smiling. 

“Or adopting,” Lightning said.

Noctis nodded. “Or adopting.  But just so we’re clear: you  _don’t_  want to have kids  _anytime_   _soon_ , right?”

“Right.”

“Got it.” Noctis drummed his fingers thoughtfully on her back for a beat.  “Bit of a bummer, you know.”

“What is?”

“Well I read somewhere that pregnant sex is a  _huge_ turn-on—OW!” Noctis winced when she squeezed him under the covers. Without letting go, she slid up along his body to glare playfully at him.

“I am  _really_ going to make you regret saying that,” she whispered. 

 

~

 

Gladiolus had proposed a gruelling afternoon work out that ended with a run to the top of Laxus Hill a few Saturdays after that.  Ignis, having a buttload of paperwork to deal with, agreed to meet them in the later on.  They were doing their warm-down stretches, Ignis playing fetch with Odin a few metres away, when Prompto asked if they’d had the ‘baby talk’ yet. So Noctis told them.

“And then after that, she tied me up and had her way with me,” he finished.

“Kinky freak,” Prompto pronounced, eyebrows wagging.

“Hey, don’t talk about her like that,” Noctis said, scowling.

“He’s talking about  _you_ ,” Ignis called, chuckling as Odin set down her stick in front of Noctis. 

“Oh look, money!” Prompto bent to pick it up.

 Smirking, Noctis tossed the stick at Prompto. 

“Think fast!” Gladiolus called.

Prompto didn’t, and was practically steamrolled in Odin’s quest to get back the stick.  She pressed her paws heavily onto his back, sniffing everywhere, trying to find it. “Odin I don’t have your—ow!  _Noct_!”

“ _Good_ _dog_ ,” Noctis called, proud.  Odin barked happily in response, wagging her tail. “Now sit.”

“Noct that’s not funn—OWWW!”

Ignis and Gladiolus collectively winced, then turned to admire the sunset, completely ignoring Prompto’s cries for help. 

“Better him than me,” Gladiolus said.

“You said it,” Ignis agreed.

 

~

 

There was no subtle way to bring up the matter of Lightning’s ring size to Serah, so Noctis decided, _fuck it_ , and began their routine coffee date discourse with just that.  Lightning was out of town with Crowe providing security detail for the Lucis Foreign Minister while the latter visited their embassies in the nearby nations and would not be back for at least two months.  _More than ample time to prepare_ , Noctis thought, grimacing, because Serah was presently lecturing his ass off. _Apparently_ five years was stretching past ‘way too long’ and into ‘abandon all hope’ territory. 

On the plus side, Serah would be the perfect tutor for he and Lightning's future kid, because if Noctis had any doubt going in about her ability to keep any unruly kindergartners in line, then the acute fear that his ears were about to melt off his head had erased any of that. 

Serah finally picked up her mug and took a long sip.  Noctis waited, tense—he couldn’t tell if she was taking a break from berating him, or she was genuinely done. 

“Sorry for yelling at you,” Serah said.  “It’s just—Light’s my _sister_ , Noct and I know she’s a badass glaive who kicks butt and takes names, but she's vulnerable too. . . even more so now that she has you.  Sometimes I think you’re too dense to realize it.  Actually, wait, no. I take that back— _five years_ ; yeah you’re definitely dense.”

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck. “So. . . you’ll help me then?”

Serah squeezed his wrist across the table. “ _Of course_ I will.”  But then her grip tightened painfully, eyes narrowed.

“Um—” Noctis started.

“But if you break her heart I will break your neck,” Serah said. “We clear on that?”

“Crystal,” Noctis squeaked. Serah's face brightened into a smile.

"Welcome to the family."

And he thought _Lightning_ was scary.

~

 

The proposal Noctis had spent weeks rehearsing with Ignis never happened—and years of enduring the glaive’s weird betting habit concerning their relationship should have prepared him for it.  He was rising from the couch just as she closed the front door, ready to launch into the corniest, cheesiest speech ever invented, when she suddenly warped, tackling him back into the couch, kissing him hard. She was all hands—sliding everywhere: over his shoulders, under his shirt, into his hair.

“Um. Hi.” Noctis said breathlessly, when she finally pulled away.  “Welcome home.”

There was a smile on her face that had his heart stuttering out of rhythm. “Hi,” Lightning replied. “And yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes I’ll marry you.”

Noctis stared at her for a moment, lost, and then he let out a groan, resting a hand over his eyes. 

“The glaive,” he realized.

Lightning rolled off him and wrapped his arm over her shoulder, tucking her head under his chin.  She kissed his jaw.

“Crowe says she saw you and Serah poking around some jewelry stores.  _And_ practicing your proposal. Nyx says he’s heard _porn_ more eloquent than what you wrote.”

“That’s it; I’m firing _him_ first when I’m king.”

“ _Don’t._ ” Lightning hit him.  “He and the guys seem to have a good idea of our relationship trajectory.”

“That is exactly _why_ I should fire them,” Noctis pointed out, reaching into his pocket.  He slid the ring on her finger— knife-edge, oval solitaire set in 18 karat white gold—and then pulled her in, kissing her long and deep. 

They settled into the couch afterward, Lightning turning her hand this way and that to let it catch the light.

“You know I _would_ have tried for a shard of the crystal, but that would have involved challenging the king of Lucis,” Noctis said.

“Glad you didn’t--I’ve seen your dad in action.  So. Do I get to read your speech?”

Noctis rolled his eyes at her and then began to recline on the couch, pulling her on top of him, gripping her thighs as she straddled him.  She picked the perfect day to wear a miniskirt. 

“Sure," he said, "if you want _yellow_ as a color scheme.”

“I think you mean _mustard_ yellow,” Lightning corrected, shedding her shirt.

“I think you’re right,” Noctis muttered absently, hands sliding up her sides. He pulled her down and kissed her. “And I really think it’s adaman _toises_ , not _toii_.”

* * *

 

—fin—


End file.
